


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 










ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN 



3^ 



NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

l82 FIFTH AVENUE 


- Jk 


fz.s 


*1 

Copyright by 
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 
1878 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 
XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 


Two men 

Scraping acquaintance 

Their manners 

“ She spoke through the still 

WEATHER ” 

The pretty woman is not offended 
Mr. Cripps points a moral 

Ellen Ravenhill 

Crambo 

Smooth seas and pleasant words 

The patriots 

In the Mersey 

Ketchum receives a telegram . 

Landing 

Liverpool 

The country 

Dolwyddelan 

Two MINDS IN DIFFERENT CHANNELS REACH 


PAGE. 

I 

II 

18 

20 

21 

24 

29 

3 2 

41 

47 

53 

55 

58 

61 

68 

77 


THE SAME CONCLUSION 


85 


IV 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

kxiv. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVII. 


How Lawrence Hill passed his last 
night in Wales . 

Thomas Cripps draws *a card from 

HIS SLEEVE 

On the Northwestern Railway . 
London and discontent . 

Sacrilege 

The triumph of reason 
Cable correspondence 
The interpretation of three pic- 
tures 

A woman’s sympathy 
Did Lawrence Hill play poker ? . 

News from the detectives . 
Ketchum and Hill exchange se- 
crets 

The Museum at South Kensington 
Mr. Cripps speaks to a policeman . 
The wisdom of Thomas Cripps 
Ketchum forms a resolution . 

A HOMESICK MAN AND HIS SYMPATHIZ- 
ING COUNTRYMAN 
A LOVERS’ MEETING . 

Three tete-a-tetes 

KeTCHUM’s TRIUMPH . . . . 


PAGE. 

89 

9 i 

9S 

98 

102 

107 

IO9 

*13 

I 2 I 
123 
I27 

I29 

137 

142 

144 

147 

149 

153 

l6l 

167 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTER PAGE. 

XXXVIII. At the station .... 169 

XXXIX. Ketchum’s exultation . . .171 

XL. A CONVERSATION .... 177 
XLI. An encounter on the Common . 186 

XLII. The conservative proves himself 

A FAIR MAN .... 194 

XLIII. Mr. Hopes’ judicious management 200 
XLIV. Two PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING 

WOMAN ..... 208 

XLV. Thomas Cripps’ last card . . 218 

XLVI. Ketchum dines at Mr. Hope’s . 230 

XLVII. A VICTIM OF NOSTALGIA . . . 24I 

XLVIII. Homeward bound . . « 246 

XLIX. Conclusion 249 



ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN 


CHAPTER I. 

TWO MEN. 

T HE steamship Arcadia sailed from New York for 
Liverpool, early in June, 1877. 

While she is feeling her way down the narrows, her 
screw scarcely stirring the water in her wake, two young 
men stand upon her high bow, looking forward as if im- 
patient to get on, and engaged in the following conver- 
sation. 

“ Make your parting obeisance to the old flag, my boy, 
you will not see it again floating over American soil for 
three months.” 

The speaker pointed to the flag staff at Quarantine, 
where the stars and stripes swung, rippling in the bright 
summer air. 

“That is all very well for talk,” replied the other, 
“ but that flag represents at present a country governed by 
corrupt politicians, and peopled by wrong-headed men. I 
do not worship emblems. I have passed that point of 
narrow-mindedness which cheers a signal of familiar colors 
without regard to what it really signifies.” 


2 . ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

1 * 

“ In other words, among your many virtues you have 
no room for the virtue of patriotism ?” 

“ Now, my dear fellow, do not put on that holy tone. 
It becomes you doubtless on the stump in the back 
districts of Cayuga County. The spread eagle soars suc- 
cessfully in that Bostian air. But on the deck of a foreign 
ship let us be candid. The stars and stripes are very 
well shaken over the heads of ignorant voters, but 
you may as well acknowledge that like the miracles of 
priest craft, the flag and its appropriate emotions are cun- 
ning devices to influence unreasoning masses.” 

“ Then you boldly take the ground that patriotism is an 
unworthy sentiment ?” 

“Yes — that is unworthy of thinking men. It is better 
than absolute individual selfishness. It is better that a 
man should be willing to sacrifice himself for his country, 
right or wrong, than be brutally bent on nothing but per- 
sonal welfare. But men of the right sort now, have come 
to overlook mere physical boundaries. The right sort of a 
man is willing to sacrifice himself for the welfare of his 
fellow men, no matter what may be their differences of 
race or locality. A national flag is a representation of the 
selfishness of half civilization. It is well enough for those 
who cannot do better. It is a step in advance of barbar- 
ism. But as for me — well, I trust that I have outgrown 
that sort of thing.” 

“ Great Scott ! This is a step in advance ! A whole 
forced march ! I wonder that you New England fellows, 
with nothing to do, don’t turn missionaries, and preach to 
us barbarians the abolition of patriotism.” 

Then the Cayuga County man pulled his slouched hat 


TWO MEN. 


3 


down over his eyes, pushed his long arms into the pockets 
of his sack-coat, and saucily thrust out his chin, with its 
long light goatee ; while the New England man stroked 
his evenly parted brown beard, and laughed such a clear 
good humored laugh, with such bright friendly eyes, that 
you would have said he was one of the best fellows 
in the world, and not at all the prig his talk made him 
seem. 

Lawrence Hill, the New England man, and Reuben 
Ketchum, the Cayuga County man, had been friends in 
college, ten years ago. They had seen very little of each 
other since that happy time. They met by accident a 
month or so before this date, and under the impulse of 
old recollections planned to take together a summer trip 
to Europe, which each had contemplated separately. 

Lawrence Hill had inherited a comfortable fortune. 
His home was in a small New England city. He was 
accustomed to being looked up to as a superior being, by the 
most of the people around him. He was thought by his 
favoring friend’s to have unusual ability, but he had thus 
far been contented with this flattering domestic reputation, 
and had never taken pains to do anything to deserve it. 
He had studied law but never practiced. He had devoted 
himself to literature but never printed anything worth 
mentioning. He had spent much time in reading works 
on political economy, and had passed many intellectual 
hours in discussions with other well-informed gentlemen, 
endeavoring to define clearly the wage-fund theory and 
the law of value. He had also written a labored essay 
on “ Over-production, a People’s Crime an essay which 
was kindly read in manuscript by several American mem- 


4 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


bers of the Cobden Club, andjiighly praised by them, and 
which he had been urged to publish — at his own expense. 
He had also composed verses, but with an uncommon 
modesty had not shown them, even to his intimate friends. 

Lawrence Hill had many friends who admired and 
loved him greatly. That he had not accomplished any- 
thing of consequence, they said, and very probably truly, 
was because he had had no sufficient stimulus to exer- 
tion. He had merely played with life. He had not yet 
completed his education. But he came of a good stock. 
He had good abilities. He needed only a sufficient 
motive. 

Reuben Ketchum was a tall, thin man, with thin ner- 
vous nose projecting above a large yellow moustache. 
He also wore a long tuft of hair on an impudent chin. 
His eyes were faded blue, but they had a steady way of 
looking at people, and never disclosed what their owner 
was thinking about. 

Reuben Ketchum was a lawyer in a small city in cen- 
tral New York. He had worked hard for ten years, and 
gained great confidence in himself. He had met the 
scheming men of the West and the sharp men of the 
East, and had held his own. He had associated with 
politicians, and made stump-speeches, and although he 
knew that the voice of the people was very seldom a 
voice divine, he thoroughly believed the principles of 
the American government. 

These two men loved each other, as two men may who 
have been friends at college, and retain the knowledge of 
each other’s frank good qualities, in contrast with ten 
years of experience of the bad qualities of other men. 


5 


TWO MEN. 

Reuben Ketchum’s affection for Hill was much stronger 
than Hill’s reciprocal regard ; probably because Ketchum 
had found fewer admirable men among his associates ; 
possible because Hill was really the most lovable char- 
acter. With Ketchum’s devotion was mingled a per- 
sistent belief in Hill’s capacity for great works. Hill 
had been a college favorite, a man conspicuous, whose 
success was prophesied and expected by his companions. 
Ketchum still retained this feeling. He wanted to see 
his friend waken from his dilettanteism, and he meant to 
give him some vigorous and judicious shakings during 
their summer together. Ketchum also had a feeling of 
self-congratulation in associating with Hill. If the five 
talent man had observed the ten talent man doing up his 
capital in a napkin, and hiding it away in the earth, we 
can imagine that he would have felt more pride with 
his own judicious investment, than when he noticed the 
miserable one talent man making that reprehensible dis- 
position of his property. So it was natural that Ketchum 
should find his vanity flattered^ when he compared his 
ten years of industry with Hill’s ten years of idleness. 

He held intuitively the common American impression 
that life without an active and mentionable occupation 
is more or less disgraceful. He never questioned the 
correctness of that public opinion, which expects ever} 7, 
man to work with his head or his hands, under penalty 
of being reckoned an imbecile or a squanderer. 

But Lawrence Hill, for his part, had a genuine affec- 
tion for Reuben Ketchum, although it was perhaps less 
critical in its nature, and more urbane in its manifesta- 
tions and expectations. Hill had that gentleness of 


6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


manner, which in a hundred little attentions to intimate 
friends constantly shows particular regard. These at- 
tentions may often be mere conventional politeness, and 
all the kind feeling which they are meant to express may 
be consumed in the expression. But Hill’s little kind- 
nesses greatly pleased, flattered and won his companions, 
and indeed they were the sincere evidences of a warm 
attachment. Such attachment, however, were common 
in his life, and such expressions were his habits. But 
neither Reuben Ketchum nor we think the less of his 
smiles for this consideration. 

Our two friends walked the deck of the Arcadian, in- 
specting their fellow passengers, and enjoying the new 
sensations of being afloat. 

The deck of an outward-bound steamer affords pleasant 
studies of human nature. The hurry of starting has sub- 
sided, and the enforced quiet, which comes upon bust- 
ling men and women, brings out in relief those personal 
characteristics, which in the rush of affairs are unnoticed. 
Here may be seen people concentrating the active energy, 
which has been developed in the struggle of life, upon 
the favorable bestowing of these new steamer chairs. 
Here are prominent citizens, whose departure has re- 
ceived a separate paragraph in the daily papers, posing 
for the public eye, still conscious of their own import- 
ance. Here are inquisitive people, taking pride in know- 
ing all about the ships they sail in, peeping into corners 
and exploring hatchways, and even testing the temper of 
the captain on the bridge. Here are the veterans of 
many voyages, having changed at once their “ shore- 
clothes” for more comfortable garments, making up to 


TWO MEN. 


7 


each other, and comparing previous experiences. Here 
are solitary possessors of binocular glasses, examining the 
passing shores, and congratulating themselves that no 
one knows them well enough to ask for the use of their 
precious telescopes. Here are people with weak stom- 
achs, wondering if it is going to be rough, and timid 
people, wondering if it is going to be dangerous. In 
short life comes for all in new phases and sensations, and 
everyone is more or less enlivened. 

Our two friends walked the deck, and Ketchum said : 

“ I guess it will be money in our pockets to make our 
friends among these people right away. We’ve got to 
know ’em, or some of ’em, and if we push right in we 
can take our choice, before the sets are formed.” 

Lawrence Hill was now shocked. He never “ pushed 
in” anywhere, and he answered : 

“ I don’t intend to make friends with anyone on this 
ship.” 

“ O, come now,” said Ketchum, “ you’ll have the stu- 
pidest kind of a time if you stand on your dignity. This 
ship is just like a boarding-house. I know all about it, 
for I’ve lived some in boarding-houses, and you can’t sit 
opposite to a man or woman three times a day, and meet 
’em going up and down stairs, without speaking to ’em 
and being friends, at least not without making yourself 
and other people very uncomfortable.” 

“ But I can be reasonably polite to a man without 
making friends with him.” 

“ May be you can. I can’t. I like to chaff the queer 
people, talk sense with the sensible ones, toss the babies 
and romp with the children, be confidential with the old 


8 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


ladies, and make love to the young ones. I always do 
this when I’m in a boarding-house, and here — why, hang 
it, man, it will be the only amusement we’ll have for the 
next ten days.” 

Hill laughed his intelligent, good-humored laugh. “ That 
amusement, I’m afraid, will not suit me. I don’t get on 
with people I’ve not been introduced to.” 

“ The trouble is, my dear fellow, you’ve never tried. 
You never have come down from your stilts a single 
minute in your life. You’ve always had such a good 
time up above men’s heads, that you don’t know how 
much fun there is among common people on the level 
earth. But I think that this voyage will show you how 
to mix with your average fellow men. I’ll bet that be- 
fore you land in Liverpool you’ll be the most popular 
man on board ship, everybody’s guide, philosopher and 
friend.” 

Hill shook his head, smiling. 

“ I’ll bet that when we reach port you’ll exchange cards 
with twenty gentlemen now unknown to you, and in the 
most earnest manner urge them to visit you in America ; 
that at least ten middle-aged ladies will be made ac- 
quainted with your dearest hopes and wishes, and — ” 

“ Wait a minute ? ” exclaimed Hill ; “ you’ll ruin your- 
self by extravagant wagers.” 

“ — And you will make love to — let us see how many 
pretty young woman ? — Well, as it is Lawrence Hill we 
are betting on, we’ll say one. You will fall desperately 
in love with one lovely creature, and very likely will spoil 
my whole vacation by running after her all over Europe.” 

“ Vat stakes, vat stakes, my proud young gamester ?” 


TWO MEN. 


9 


“ Anything you’ll name,” answered Ketchum. 

“ I might swindle you out of a year’s practice. But, I 
think of your poor clients, who would then have to pay 
double, and I’ll spare them ; but I’ll give you a list of 
penalties, a schedule of forfeits, which I will pay. For 
every exchange of cards and invitations to visit with peo- 
ple on board this ship, one bottle of wine. For every 
confidential communication to man or women, one box of 

cigars. For every baby tossed a ” 

“ A chromo of a Boston man, caught in the act, 

and for making love, a ” 

“ a farm, a house and lot, the half of my kingdom,” 

Hill replied, attracting the attention of the strangers 
around him by his hilarity. 

The idea that he, Lawrence Hill, would show any such 
ridiculous weakness ! It was too absurd ! He felt within 
himself, that he was like a serene mountain, rising above 
association with lesser heights. He might shelter the 
little hills around him, but he would never treat them as 
companions. 

It is well to be self-centered. Lawrence Hill in theory 
called all men his brothers. In his feelings he had a fel- 
lowship for every ideal human being. But in his practice 
he held himself aloof from all persons to whom he had not 
been formally introduced. He and his particular friends 
furnish the most absurd combination imaginable of demo- 
cratic principles and aristocratic manners. But this ab- 
surdity never revealed itself to him. He was brought up 
to contend that the Congo savage was the political equal of 
the full-brained heir of all the ages, and at the same time 
to assume with the most confident pride, that his neighbor, 


IO 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


who lived on the next street and kept a shop, was his 
social inferior. He saw nothing inconsistent in this view 
and this assumption. He had that calm and fluid confi- 
dence in the correctness of his conduct and habits, which 
is productive of nobility of spirit. 


CHAPTER II. 


SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 

L AWRENCE HILL was left with his cigar for com- 
pany, while Reuben Ketchum, pursuing his board- 
ing house theory of life on ship-board, went on a tour of in- 
spection, and of scraping acquaintance among his fellow- 
passengers. He was very soon engaged in conversation with 
Senator Puffers, a distinguished American statesman, and 
had the happiness of being presented to the Senator’s wife 
and daughters, as “ my friend, Mr. Ketchum of Cayuga.” 
The Senator had a loud voice, and the ceremony was 
almost equivalent to an introduction to fifty persons who 
were near by. 

Ketchum spent fifteen minutes thrusting his bold beard 
into the Senator’s face, and asking him more or less im- 
pertinent questions. The Senator was a servant of the 
people, and that function of popular authority residing in 
Reuben Ketchum, was just now disposed to make itself 
prominent and odious. Both he and the Senator talked 
for the benefit of the people near them. 

“ Well, Senator, you think the country is safe for a few 
months, and you too can take a vacation ?” 

“ Our country, sir, in its present crisis needs the careful 
attention of all loyal citizens. But public men must some- 
times withdraw from the arduous labors which the people 
lay upon them. We need, sir, to renew our strength. We 
need time for thought and preparation for the great strug- 
gle which is before us.” 


ii 


12 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ I see, you are running away from your friends who 
want office, and wish you to help them.” 

“Sir, the representatives of the people have not the 
power which they once had. My soul is sad when I see the 
patriots who have devoted themselves to their country, 
working night and day in conventions and campaigns, 
unrecognized and unrewarded. But, sir, these noble fel- 
lows shall be remembered. I am thinking of them con- 
stantly. I have their interest at heart.” 

“ I intend, Senator,” said Ketchum soberly, “ to spend 
my time in Europe looking around among the consulates, 
to see which will suit me best, when you become President.” 

“ Ah ! sir,” answered the Senator, “ that may never be, 
but, whatever happens, rest assured, sir, that your services 
shall not be forgotten. No man, who does his duty, shall 
be forgotten.” 

“ The Bull’s-eye state,” said Ketchum meditatively, “ de- 
serves more than she gets.” 

“ The great Bull’s-eye state, sir,” responded the Sena- 
tor, “is the focus of this union ; the brain, the wealth of 
the nation. You say rightly sir, her position demands more 
conspicuous recognition than she receives. Her distin- 
guished sons — but, sir, modesty forbids me to say the 
words which may be appropriate in the mouth of 
another.” 

“ Exactly, Senator, that is the sentiment of the people. 
We’ll rally round you when the time comes.” 

This conversation, with more in the same strain, was 
listened to attentively by the passengers in the immediate 
neighborhood, and some of these persons, Ketchum par- 
ticularly noticed. 


SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 


13 


A dark, sallow-faced man, whose black hair was streaked 
with gray, sat near by in a reclining chair, and turned fre- 
quently and slowly his dull black eyes upon them. He 
had a big mouth, with overlapping under lip, and there 
were heavy shadows under his eyes. He had that stiff, 
respectable air which is given to a man by the big black 
frock coat, high stock and wide standing collar, which 
were worn by good Americans twenty or thirty years ago 
— an air which savors of sanctity, probably because many 
clergymen in this country wear this dress. 

By this man sat an unmistakable Englishman, red faced, 
with smooth shaven lip and chin and gray side whiskers ; 
his dress, that of a .traveler ; his manner, that of a man 
of business. 

Two ladies stood beside these men, leaning on the 
ship’s rail. One was of medium height and thin figure, 
jauntily and somewhat richly dressed in black, not in 
mourning costume, but with silk and velvet and lace and 
jet, neatly fitted and artistically placed — a pretty woman 
of thirty. 

The other was taller, larger and younger. She had an 
abundance of light hair wound in a knot behind a well 
shaped head, a good-sized mouth, and strong teeth and 
full lips, well rounded, ruddy cheeks, and a well poised 
neck and a large chin. You would not have called her 
handsome at first sight. But she was a pleasant person 
to contemplate, such a fair lady, indeed, as benevolent 
old physicians, riding a tilt against fashion in the name 
of fresh air exercise, would have crowned queen of love 
and beauty. She was not dressed in the manner of her 
companion. She was rather draped. Her garments did 


14 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


not fit ; they hung about her. But she was graceful as a 
statue. A sculptor might have been charmed by 
her natural attitudes. But a fastidious painter, with 
an eye sensitive to inharmonious colors, would have 
avoided her, for she mingled brown and blue and 
red in her costume, as innocent of effect as an untu- 
tored savage. 

This group of four, Ketchum examined while he talked 
with Senator Puffer. He wondered what relationship ex- 
isted among them. Were these two women the wives or 
daughters of these two men ? For Ketchum to wonder 
in his present mood was for him to resolve to ask. So 
he said : 

“ Have you many friends on board, Senator ? ” 

“ Many of the passengers know me,” replied the great 
American ; “ but I cannot say that I can call any great 
number of them by name. There are many familiar 
faces here.” 

This was said as if addressing the company, and the 
Senator gave them all the benefit of his pleasant popular 
smile. His genial speech and action was equivalent to 
making everybody within its radius his own admirers, 
and put all on good terms with each other. 

Under the influence of this smile, Ketchum said to the 
dark featured man, when the Senator turned to make a 
short oration to his wife and daughters 

“ He’s a remarkable man.” 

The dark featured man treated him to a melancholy 
stare, and answered, “ Yes.” 

This yes came from a set mouth, in a harsh, decisive 
tone, and was enough to silence even the forward lawyer. 


SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 


15 


But the Englishman asked : 

“ Who is he ? ” 

Ketchum answered in a loud whisper, leaning over, and 
both of the ladies inclined their heads to listen : 

“ That is the Honorable Lemuel Puffer, of the United 
States Senate.” 

Some one else came forward, and engaged the Sena- 
tor’s attention, and Ketchum took the opportunity to 
give the Englishman and the two ladies a rambling and 
somewhat romantic account of his eminent countryman’s 
early life and heroic experiences. These stories were 
largely made up on the spot, but they were none the less 
entertaining, and although the dark featured man did not 
seem interested, the others rewarded him with good hu- 
mored encouragement. 

The man with the dark countenance kept his eyes fixed 
on Ketchum, while that benevolent young man was giving 
the company the benefit of his information or invention, 
in a gloomy way. There was no speculation in his dull 
orbs. They were as unemotional as the book of fate. 

The pretty woman, however, flattered Ketchum by her 
appreciative looks, and when the gloomy man, plainly 
bored by the stranger’s intrusive talk, rose slowly and 
walked away alone, with measured and labored step, that 
bold young man said to her : 

“ Your father is an invalid, I guess ?” 

This shrewd supposition produced a sensation amongst 
the three friends. The Englishman looked quickly at 
Ketchum, as if he thought him an impertinent fellow, 
then narrowly at the pretty woman, as if he noted the 
effect of the remark upon her. A shade of trouble 


1 6 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

passed over the pretty woman’s face. She blushed, and 
then said, firmly : 

“ He is my husband, sir ; and he is not an invalid.” 

“ O, I beg your pardon,” said Ketchum, and he found 
it convenient to drop out of the company, when he saw 
that by remaining he would, in all probability, drive the 
company away from him. But he said to himself, as he 
sauntered in search of Lawrence Hill, that there was a 
story worth knowing connected with that peculiar group 
of four persons — a story which it would go hard with him 
but he would unravel. 

The Arcadia was now out at sea. The first dinner 
had been successfully accomplished, and the ship’s pas- 
sengers were for the most part assembled on deck, watch- 
ing the sun setting into a bank of clouds, which seemed 
a part of the land they had left. The gentle rolling of 
the ship was, however, fast sobering and thinning the 
cheerful groups. 

Hill and Ketchum walked the deck against the invigor- 
ating breeze. Ketchum related his experience in making 
acquaintances, his conspicuous talk with the pompous 
Senator, which he pronounced as heavy work as arguing 
a desperate case before a jury, and how he had made a 
bold effort to penetrate the relationship of four persons, 
and how he had gained some information, but had ruined 
his chances of future acquaintanceship. 

“ Do you know,” said Hill, “ I do not see how you can 
do that sort of thing. Going up to decent, inoffensive 
people, and making game of them to their faces ! It is 
disgraceful, and I hope that you will be abominably sea- 
sick as a punishment.” 


SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 


17 


“ Don’t be too fast, old Rhadamanthus. Sea-sickness 
comes on the just and the unjust, and very possibly while 
you and that black-faced old stick-in-the-mud are groan- 
ing in your state-rooms, I, with good conscience and 
steady stomach, will be making friends with his pretty 
wife on deck.” 

“ That is too true, unfortunately. But if she is a lady, 
nothing will induce her to speak to you again.” 

“ Don’t be too sure of that. They didn’t know that I 
was making game of them. And, by George, I wasn’t. 
I was a good-natured fellow, wishing to make myself 
agreeable. I made an unfortunate remark, for which I 
asked pardon, and there is nothing more to be said about 
it. I shall speak to the lady at the next favorable chance, 
which will be when I catch her alone. You’ll see, we 
shall be good friends.” 

“ I doubt it,” answered Hill. 

“ By George, there’s my interesting little party now, 
and old stick-in-the-mud is getting from his chair, like 
a pocket-rule straightening itself. I’m devilish glad to 
know that he is not an invalid, but I’ll bet he’s sea-sick 
now. See, he is making for the lee-side, moving very 
much as if he were a pair of dividers ; and that pretty 
woman hardly looks after him.” 

Our two friends passed the Englishman and the two 
ladies sitting together, and returned passing them again. 

“ Which do you speak of as the pretty woman?” asked 
Hill. 

“ Why, man, the smaller one of course. The other is 
nothing but a big, healthy girl.” 

Indeed ! ” answered Hill. 


CHAPTER III. 


WHO ARE OUR FELLOW-TRAVELERS? 

T HE next day the Arcadia encountered a thick fog, and 
rolled along in the gulf-stream on a considerable 
swell. Both Hill and Ketchum smoked their cigars tran- 
quilly, and pitied the poor people who were seeking for 
peace in gruel and champagne and brandy and water and 
peppermint, and finding it not. 

During the morning Ketchum announced, with an air 
of satisfaction : — 

“ I know their names.” 

Hill didn’t ask whose names, but, 

“ How did you learn them ?” 

“ Asked the steward.” 

“You’re a queer fellow,” said Hill, “what are the 
names.?” 

“ I’m an invaluable traveling companion for a diffident 
man. His name is Ogle. It should be Ogre. He is the 
President of a big bank in Chicago. Awfully wealthy. 
She probably married him for his money. I’ll ask her if 
she didn’t.” 

“ What are the names of the others ?” asked Hill. 

“ The Englishman’s name is Thomas Cripps or Chipps, 
or something of that sort.” 

“ And the other lady ?” 

18 


WHO ARE OUR FELLOW-TRAVELERS ? IQ 

“ Oh ! the girl. She is Chipps’ step-daughter. Her 
name is Ravenhill.” 

*‘Ah !” said Hill. 

“ Old Ogle is sick as I expected,” continued Ketchum, 
in a tone of contentment, “ keeps his bunk, and takes 
loads of medicine. His wife, who is afraid she cannot 
stand it below, leaves him to the tender care of the state- 
room steward, and spends her time on deck.” 



CHAPTER IV. 

SHE SPOKE THROUGH THE STILL WEATHER. 

L ATER in the day Lawrence Hill had taken a book, 
the poems of Dante Rossetti. He sat on deck and 
was reading and re-reading “ The Beautiful Damozel.” He 
could kill time by the day, pondering smooth verses. All 
sounds and motions were subdued. The hum of voices 
on the deck not too near, the low swish of the water 
against the vessels side, the even roll of the ship, the gen- 
tle breeze, the throbbing of the machinery like a great 
pulse under his feet — all conditions combined to induce 
reverie. Surely thus, if ever, can come the Nirvana, the 
heaven of contemplation. He read : — 

‘ ‘ And now 

She spoke through the still weather. 

Her voice was like the voice the stars 
Had, when they sang together.” 

He lingered on these lines. The music repeated itself 
in his mind, and sweet and calm by his side, came in clear, 
Hch notes, as if the voice he dreamed of spoke indeed. 

“ Does it not make you sad to think that ships have 
sailed, as we have sailed, and never have been heard of? 
And yet I love the ocean — next to my native land.” 

When the voice paused, he looked up slowly as if afraid 
to break a day dream. 

Miss Ravenhill had said these words to Mrs. Ogle. 
These ladies were leaning on the ship’s' rail and looking 
off upon the sea. They did not notice him. 

Hill rose, put his book in his pocket and walked away. 
20 


CHAPTER V. 


THE PRETTY WOMAN IS NOT OFFENDED. 

R EUBEN Ketchum was right about it; Mrs. Ogle was 
not at all reluctant to enter into conversation with 
him, when he found her alone upon deck, during the 
second day of their voyage. 

They sat upon one of the benches, and Ketchum apolo- 
gized for his mistake, in supposing that Mr. Ogle was her 
father. He said that he was very stupid not to see that 
there was no family resemblance between them. The 
pretty woman received his excuses very cheerfully, and 
looking around rather shyly, said : — 

“ Do you know, people have made that same mistake 
before. I can’t understand it, for Mr. Ogle doesn’t look 
so very much older than I.” 

“ O! no,” said the complaisant Ketchum, “ I should say 
that he was only about forty years your senior.” 

“ You are really making matters very much worse.” she 
said demurely. 

“ I am ready to apologize again,” said Ketchum. 

“ Mr. Ogle is only twenty-three years older than I am,” 
said Mrs. Ogle. 

“Is that all ?” said Ketchum in well-feigned surprise, 
“ he is, then, much younger than he looks. Bankers do 
grow old very fast now-a-days.” 

“ How old do you think Mr. Ogle is ?” asked Mrs. Ogle. 
“ O ! from what you have told me, I know he must be 
about forty-three or forty-five.” 


21 


22 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ There you are wrong,” she said, “ and now I know 
that you are making game of me. You know that I am 
much more than twenty or twenty-two.” 

She looked at him this time rather steadily, as if she 
were used to defending herself. But there was something 
also in her look, which showed that she had had enough 
of war, and would much prefer peace. There was an 
appealing expression, back of her defiance. Her’s was 
the face of a woman, who amidst smiles and jollity, is 
haunted by a vague dread of undeveloped misfortune. 

Ketchum saw this, and said very frankly : 

'‘You are right to a certain extent, I might have guessed 
that you were a few years more than twenty, but, I didn’t 
think it any harm to put the figures low enough. I 
wanted to make myself agreeable to you, and I never 
before found one of your sex offended, at being thought 
nearer to twenty years than she actually was.” 

She accepted this statement frankly as it was made and 
said simply : — 

“ I am thirty-one years of age, and Mr. Ogle is fifty- 
four. I would have told you this in the first place, if you 
had asked it.” 

Ketchum said that he would not have had the assur- 
ance to ask such an impertinent question. 

She looked at him again steadily, 

“ I think, sir,” she said, “ if I may say so without offence, 
that you underrate your talents.” 

Ketchum had a versatile ability when winning his way 
into the interest of people. He could see the tears in the 
eyes of a jury deeper, and bring them to the surface more 
readily than most of his legal brethern. 


THE PRETTY WOMAN IS NOT OFFENDED. 23 


He said : “I am properly punished, Mrs. Ogle, by your 
contempt. But what is a poor fellow to do. I can’t 
spend all my time in the smoking-room. I don’t find the 
men on this ship interesting. I thought that you wouldn’t 
mind talking to me, snd so I made bold to speak to you. 2 ’ 

“ I am not offended,” she said, “ but I do not like to 
be bantered. You must forgive me, but I thought, at 
first, that your manner was saucy. It seemed to me that 
you had made a bet with some of your friends, that you 
would speak to me, or something of that sort.” 

“ On my honor,” protested Ketchum, astonished at the 
shrewdness of the little woman, “You do me great injus- 
tice. My manner is unfortunate, I have acquired it in 
a rough experience with all sorts of people. A lawyer’s 
success depends upon his assurance. He must never be 
abashed.” 

“ You are a successful lawyer then, Mr. Ketchum,” 
said his fair companion, laughing, “ you see I know your 
name, as well as you know mine. 

Ketchum bowed with great gravity. He remembered 
Senator Puffer’s public introduction of him. 

“ You and I may be good friends, if you will not make 
game of me,” she continued. 

He said that he hoped so, and that he would endeavor 
to make his walk and conversation becomingly serious. 

“Now I must go to Mr. Ogle,” she said, “poor man, 
he is so wretchedly afraid of being sea-sick, that he will 
not leave his berth.!! ’ 

So she left him, and Ketchum thought that there was 
really much fun in scraping acquaintance. 


CHAPTER VI. 


MR. CRIPPS POINTS A MORAL. 

K ETCHUM observed during the first two or three 
days of the voyage, that Mr. Thomas Cripps had 
three ways of employing his time between eating and 
sleeping. He kindly waited upon Mr. Ogle, visiting him 
frequently in his stateroom, carrying to him gruel and 
tea, and other supposed beneficial concoctions. He was 
specially attentive to Mrs. Ogle. He was deeply inter- 
ested in certain games of cards which were constantly in 
progress in the smoking room. 

Whether Mr. Cripps found most enjoyment in minis- 
tering to the sick, in entertaining the beautiful, or in test- 
ing the fortuitous, you could not have told from his 
actions in either of these fascinating pursuits. He car- 
ried always the same smooth, industrious manner. He 
had a busy, practical way of doing things. Yet he never 
seemed to hurry, beyond a certain habit of seeming busy. 
He talked rapidly. At least he began to talk rapidly, 
and then appeared to be at a loss for a word, and then 
said a few more words quickly, and then hesitated again. 
Until you became used to his sp.4^, you thought that 
he was always just on the poini ... stuttering; yet he ^ 
never did stutter. He indulged in no sentiment. He 
was never moved by the sight of Mr. Ogle’s mental 
24 


MR. CRIPPS POINTS A MORAL. 


25 


wretchedness into an expression of sympathy. He talked 
to Mrs. Ogle of the sailing qualities of the ship, of the 
quantity of coal which she Consumed, and he knew accu- 
rately what it cost a day to run her. He seemed to think 
that Mrs. Ogle’s education as to the state of trade had 
been neglected, and that he was called upon to supply 
the deficiency. But lie never diverged into personal 
gossip. He never seemed interested in her as an indi- 
vidual, or to lead her to be interested in him. And when 
he entered the smoking-room and purchased a hand full 
of counters, and took his seat at the card table, he had 
the industrious precision, but also the lack of eagerness, 
of a machine. So he won without exultation, and lost 
without nervousness. 

But it might have been observed that tTe card table 
daily occupied more and more of his time. His visits to 
Mr. Ogle became shorter ; his conversations with Mrs. 
Ogle less prolonged. 

Lawrence Hill gave the result of his observations of 
the society and play in the smoking-room to his friend 
Ketchum somewhat as follows : 

“ When a miscellaneous crowd of men come together, 
they become sociable on their lowest plane of thought. 
The ordinary man among his fellow men is ashamed of 
refinement. The coarsest fellows become the leaders in 
the company, and the others endeavor to develop what- 
ever coarseness they may be capable of. 

“ This may be accounted for by admitting that man’s 
disposition to be sociable is stronger than his disposition 
to be pure. It is thought necessary that there should be 


26 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


good-fellowship established among any number of men 
whom chance throws together. The vulgar man cannot 
accommodate himself to the ordinary conversation of the 
man of moderate cultivation. The man of moderate 
cultivation, therefore, descends to the level of the vulgar 
man. for the time being. Accordingly, the society of the 
smoking-room, although made up largely of men of good 
habits and instincts, is uncommonly vile and low, and is 
dominated by two or three wretches, whom Providence, 
for some inscrutable reason, has furnished the means of 
purchasing first-class tickets.” 

These judicious remarks were probably suggested by 
Hill’s noticing that Ketchum was able to make himself 
at home in the society of this same smoking-room, and 
was already recognized by its prominent members as one 
of themselves. 

“ That is correct,” said Ketchum ; “ I admit that play- 
ing poker in that den of thieves does not necessarily fit 
a man for the ministry. But one has got to know all 
sorts of men, and one learns valuable lessons in such 
company.” 

“ What valuable lessons have you learned in that vile 
place ? ” asked Hill, with a sneer. 

“ I have learned, my infant moralist,” replied Ketchum, 
“ that when there are old stagers in the game, it will 
not pay to bluff on a single pair. That is a piece of 
practical wisdom which knocks all your theories cold.” 

“ Much good may it do you,” said Hill. 

“ And much good it would doubtless do me,” answered 
Ketchum, “ if I had not learned a piece of still greater 
wisdom, and this is something which your rambling in- 


MR. CRIPPS POINTS A MORAL. 


27 


tellect will take great delight in explaining. The average 
American is no match for the average Englishman as a 
gambler.” 

“ I do not understand why that should be,” said Hill. 

“ No more do I,” said Ketchum. “ But it is a fact, 
and can be proved inductively, if you choose to sojourn 
among the wretches of the smoking-room for a day or 
two. You will find the Englishmen there calm and me- 
thodical, while the Americans are noisy and excited. 
The consequence is that the Englishmen win most of 
the money, while the Americans drink most of the wine 
and liquor. I tried to act differently, to control myself, 
and keep my feelings independent of luck. I didn’t 
drink wine, or anything else. But try as much as I 
might, I couldn’t help hugging myself when I won, and 
blaming myself when I lost. I was happy and ready to 
venture too far if I won ; disheartened and miserable if 
I lost. I found that I couldn’t help these feelings, and I 
quit the business.” 

“ I’ll acknowledge that last is a valuable conclusion.” 

“ Now take that Englishman, Cripps, for instance,” 
pursued Ketchum ; “ he is an old hand. He will lose 
money all day as cheerfully as I w’ould go into my 
dinner. His mind does not seem to be absorbed in the 
game. He will answer a question, or turn away to an- 
other matter, as easily as though the game was a matter 
of no importance. And he will win in the same way, 
and will pocket his winnings without the faintest twinkle 
of satisfaction in his eye. He is the best specimen of an 
accomplished gambler who has yet taken a hand. There 
are several flashy men who tell tall stories of the luck 


28 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


they have had. They try to pass for tremendous fel- 
lows with the crowd. But I’d back Cripps and his un- 
assuming attention to business against the party. I used 
to think that I had a cool head. But this Englishman 
makes me ashamed of myself. I shall not play cards 
anymore on this ship.” 

After this conversation, Lawrence Hill watched* the 
games in progress in the smoking-rooms occasionally, 
and he took occasion to give his explanation of the 
contrast between the differing dispositions shown by the 
Americans and Englishmen at play : 

“ The Americans,” he said, “ play to win ; the English- 
men to try their luck. If the Americans lose, they think 
that they have been lacking in foresight or shrewdness ; 
they blame themselves. If they win, they attribute it to 
their superior knowledge of the game ; they think it the 
result of their own especial cleverness. The Englishmen^ 
on the contrary, rely more on fortune. They play as well 
as they can, to be sure, but if they lose they do not lay 
the fault on iheir playing. They are satisfied that luck 
is against them, and do not take the matter to heart. 
If they win, they are not unreasonably elated. It is only 
because they happen to be in good luck. 

“ I have observed,” he said, “ that every Englishmen 
on this ship is ready to risk a small wager on every ques- 
tion of even chance which comes up. On the other 
hand, very few of the Americans care to bet, and those 
who do bet, wish to have the chances of winning all in 
their favor.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


ELLEN RAVENHILL. 

I T might have been said that Reuben Ketchum had still 
another reason for forswearing card-playing in the 
smoking-room, for thereby he gained opportunity of con- 
versation with Mrs. Ogle, while Mr. Cripps was experi- 
menting with fortune. But whether it would be right to 
give this uncharitable explanation of wisdom, or not, he 
could often be seen, his broad brim pulled over his eyes, 
stroking the tuft upon his chin, paying particular atten- 
tion to the talk of this charming woman. Miss Raven- 
hill commonly was with them, and Ketchum did not find 
it accessary to run away when Mr. Ogle crawled out for a 
little air, and sat by bundled in shawls, the picture of 
melancholy helplessness. He was able also to endure the 
presence of Mr. Cripps, and by judicious questions occa- 
sionally enabled that interesting gentleman to develop his 
store of facts and figures. In fact, Ketchum was making 
himself a member of the Ogle and Cripps party, and was 
getting on very well with them, according to the most 
approved boarding-house manner. 

Meanwhile, Lawrence Hill sustained his independent 
soul, for the most part, by solitary thoughts. He read, 
and walked, and smoked, and seemed cheerful. He was 
not above noticing the conditions and characters of the 

29 


30 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


people around him, and found occasion to do little kind- 
nesses for his unknown neighbors, which are hardly worth 
mentioning, but for which he had his reward in urbanity 
of spirit. 

Lawrence Hill found himself interested in looking at 
Miss Ravenhill. He wished to hear her voice again, but 
he was incapable of taking any step to make her acquaint- 
ance. He was restrained by Ketchum’s banter, as well as 
by his own habitual reserve. But he allowed himself to 
walk, or even to stand in her neighborhood more often 
than was absolutely necessary. 

Miss Ravenhill was a pleasing object in the field of 
vision, even though a long gray cloak covered her, even 
though she wore a scarlet tie, which made her cheeks too 
pink, and a bright blue feather in her homely pot-crowned 
hat, which made her eyes too pale. She carried a certain 
air in all her motions, a dignity tempered by sweetness, 
which greatly overbalanced these little eccentricities. She 
had the gracefulness of nature, and that too, of good 
nature. The curve is the line of beauty. It is also the 
line of amiability. She was not conscious of posing, yet 
she was always statuesque. 

Lawrence Hill found that his views of the sea, were 
much more pleasing with this frank-faced young woman 
in the foreground. She was appropriate to the other pro- 
perties of marine landscapes. Most women cower when 
the ship rises on a wave, and cling when it sinks. But 
Miss Ravenhill stood on the ship’s deck as an accomplished 
rider sits a horse, perfectly at ease, showing only the exul- 
tation which is born of invigorating motion. Most women 
are buffeted and disorganized by the wind, but the wind 


ELLEN RAVENHILL. 


31 


treated this composed young lady with singular respect. 
It touched her only as it touched the sails of the ship, 
making them more graceful. 

Lawrence Hill heard Miss Ravenhill speak at several 
times. He thought that she had the very perfection of 
enunciation. Every word came delicately modulated 
from her lips, and when she placed an emphasis, it was 
like the note of a silver bell. 

Ketchum said that she declaimed whenever she spoke, 
that every time she opened her mouth, he thought that he 
was attending a high school exhibition. But Hill listened 
for these clear tones, which for him, were wonderfully in 
harmony with the undulating sea, and invigorating air. 
Such a voice he might wish to bid him good morning all 
the days of his life. Such a voice would be like a new sup- 
ply of oxygen in his atmosphere, a charm against un- 
healthy melancholy, a healing balsam for a troubled 
mind. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


CRAMBO. 

O NE morning when the ocean was smooth as a lake, 
and the sun shone hazily through fleecy clouds, 
The little party in whom I have endeavored to awaken an 
interest, sat upon deck, enjoying the rare pleasure of quiet 
life in mid-ocean. Even Mr. Ogle’s dark face showed 
the composure which is to be derived from a comfortable 
breakfast. 

Mr. Ogle showed a disposition to be on good terms with 
Ketchum. His sea-sickness, perhaps, had stirred up in 
some corner of his physical system a love of his fellow- 
men, heretofore unfelt, although it is not commonly ob- 
served that nausea makes men philanthropists. 

Mr. Ogle’s position, in a community of active people, 
was that of a successful financier. He had the confidence 
of men. He was accustomed to take charge of large sums 
of money belonging to others. He dealt in great invest- 
ments. The word millions was a common one in his 
mouth, and when Mr. Ogle said millions, he spoke as one 
who knew from daily experience, what that magnificent 
number signified. 

Mr. Ogle had the manner of a dark featured sphinx. 
He acted and spoke as one whose words are oracular. 
His firm lips were familiar with decisions, on which 
hung the fate of enterprises. 

32 


CRAMBO. 


33 


Was it rumor or instinct, which informed his fellow- 
passengers that he was a great financier ? Did they read 
in his dead, solemn eyes, and the black lines beneath 
them, that he was the President of a large bank in Chi- 
cago ? At all events, they knew this fact. He did not 
tell it. Perhaps Thomas Cripps may have mentioned it, 
and as for Mrs. Ogle, it is possible that in several moments 
of pride, she allowed this intelligence to escape. At all 
events, Mr. Ogle was looked upon by all the ship’s com- 
pany, as an important personage, although he had hardly 
exchanged a word with anyone except his wife, Mr. Cripps, 
and his state-room steward, since he came aboard. The 
average man gives a blind adoration and trust to that 
demi-god, who is able to draw a draft for an amount ex- 
pressed in six figures. 

When therefore, Mr. Ogle’s first attempt at affability 
was directed towards Reuben Ketchum, that young man 
should have felt honored. It may occur to certan sordid 
souls, who call themselves practical, to say that he should 
at once have had an eye to future business, and should 
have received the advances of this man of influence with 
obsequious attention. 

Mr Ogle said on this pleasant morning : 

“ You are a lawyer, I am informed, Mr. Ketchum ?” 

Ketchum acknowledged this fact in his history. 

“ Have you practised in the Supreme Court of the 
United States ?” 

Ketchum had much satisfaction in replying that he had 
had this honor. 

“ Do you remember the case of Ogle, et al ., versus the 
Wildcat Water Power Company.” 


34 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Ketchum admitted his familiarity with this celebrated 
case, and they at once became engaged in a discussion of 
its points. In this discussion Ketchum used many tech- 
nical terms and legal phrases with marked effect upon 
the bank president, and Mr. Ogle was much enlivened by 
the entertainment of fighting one of his battles over 
again. 

“ I may have need of an American lawyer during 
my tour in England. I shall be glad to call upon you, if 
you will have the goodness to favor me with your address,” 
said Mr. Ogle. 

“ I am on a pleasure trip,” replied Ketchum, “ I do not 
intend to devote myself to business this summer, but I 
shall be most happy to give you my opinion in a friendly 
way at any time. But, I must warn you, that a lawyer 
away from his own library in a foreign country, may prove 
an unwise counsellor.” 

“ Come, Mr. Ketchum,” said Mrs. Ogle, who was not 
interested in the conversation of these gentlemen, “ you 
and Mr. Ogle must join us in our rhyming game. Here 
are slips of paper. You must each write a word or a sen- 
tence on separate slips and drop them into this hat. You 
will then be required to draw out of the hat, where we all 
have put our words and sentences, a word and a sentence 
apiece, and compose rhymed verses which shall contain 
the word and sentence you have drawn.” 

“ An embarrassing and seductive game,” said Ketchum 

“ I have never written a rhyme, good or bad,” said Mr. 
Cripps. 

“ My dear,” said Mr. Ogle, “ You do not expect me to 
join in this game ?” 


CRAMBO. 


35 

“ Everybody must come in,” said the pretty and posi- 
tive woman. 

“ But I don’t go in for poetry, you know,” said Mr. 
Cripps. , 

“ But we can’t go back on Mrs. Ogle,” said Ketchum, 
“ I guess we shall have to sail in,” 

So the several members of the little party took the 
pieces of paper offered to them, and became absorbed in 
silent thought. 

After a considerable time all had completed the first 
part of their labor, the words and sentences were all pre- 
pared and collected. 

Mr. Ogle had written, “ The ship which carries Caesar 
cannot sink” and “ tea-kettle .” He chuckled over these 
original productions, and was of the opinion that the finan- 
cial mind was equal to any intellectual effort. 

Mrs. Ogle had devised the insinuating inquiry “ Can 
you love athing-um-bob?” and wrote the word “Arcadian.” 

Mr. Cripps evolved from his wide experience, the bene- 
ficial information, “Twenty shillings make one pound,” 
and the suggestive word “ embezzlement .” 

Mr. Ketchum’s legal mind invented the patriotic senti- 
ment, Who’s here so vile that does not love his country,” 
and the technical and useful term “ spondulixP 

Miss Ravenhill wrote “ England expects every man to 
do his duty,” and the word “ prognostication .” 

Ketchum passed the hat containing these valuable 
papers, with the solemnity of a deacon “ taking up a col- 
lection,” and each member of the little circle drew his lots 
therefrom, as soberly as if it were the urn of fate. Then 
you might have found an interesting study of faces. 


36 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Mrs. Ogle laughed and then looked the picture of 
charming despair. Mr. Cripps was passively expression- 
less — the look he wore when playing a doubtful hand of 
cards. Miss Ravenhill laid her papers in her lap and 
glanced at the others. She seemed contented not to try 
to make rhymes. Ketchum settled himself to work with 
an expression of earnest determination. But Mr. Ogle 
was badly affected. He was plainly troubled by a sudden 
return of uneasiness. He crumbled the papers in his 
hand, rose slowly and walked away. Ketchum, the only 
one of the group who could follow him with his eye, saw 
him walk forward, and at some distance from them, lean 
over the vessel’s side, as if in pain, and drop the scraps 
of paper overboard. One of the papers was taken up by 
the light breeze and lodged, unnoticed by Mr. Ogle, under 
the guards. 

Ketchum went forward and offered his assistance to 
Mr. Ogle, but that gentleman, with melancholy resigna- 
tion to his torturing unsteadiness, declined his aid, and 
went below. Ketchum picked up the scrap of paper 
under the guards, and read the word “ embezzlement.” 
“ Poor man,” he thought, “ I wonder if he loves his money- 
bags, so well, that the mere suggestion that any of his 
clerks may make away with them in his absence, makes 
him sea-sick.” 

There was silence in this little company for tne space of 
ten minutes, interrupted only by Mrs. Ogle’s occasional 
ejaculation “ O dear me !” Ketchum turned up the end 
of his goatee, and chewed it, looking off at the distant 
horizon. Miss Ravenhill with her hands calmly folded in 
her lap, looked carelessly and contentedly around. Mr. 


CRAMBO. 


37 


Cripps finished his lines without hesitation, said that it 
was to “ build poetry, you know,” and walked away prom- 
ising to return in a few moments. 

Ketchum at length polished off his lines to his satisfac- 
tion, and as Mrs. Ogle was still scribbling, and erasing, 
and exclaiming, he asked Miss Ravenhill, why she did 
not proceed to make up her rhymes. 

“ It is out of my power. I cannot make verses. I am 
quite confident that I cannot,” she replied. 

“ Let me see your papers,” he said, and he took them 
from her hand. 

He looked at them a moment with an amused expres- 
sion, and then said : 

“ I have a friend on board, who, I know, would be de- 
lighted to turn a neat stanza for you. He is quite a liter- 
ary genius. There he stands, yonder. If you will let me 
present him, ” 

“ O yes,” answered the young lady. 

Lawrence Hill knew the location and attitude of Miss 
Ravenhill, although he was not at that time looking at 
her. He was leaning on the rail and watching the silky 
surface of the sea, as it was broken by the steamer, and 
covered with light lace-like froth. 

Ketchum laid hold of his arm and said : “ A lady in 
trouble desires your help.” 

Hill under most circumstances would have resisted his 
friend’s influence, but now he yielded. He was presented 
to Miss Ravenhill and Mrs. Ogle, and Ketchum assisted 
his introduction by this saucy information, — 

“ Mr. Hill is a citizen of the world. He holds all men 
his brothers, all women his sisters but he doesn’t wish to 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


38 

be acquainted with more than one ten-millionth of his 
dear relatives.” 

Miss Ravenhill, said, pleasantly : “ Will you not join 
our little game, Mr. Hill, and will you not help me ? My 
word and sentence are such awkward affairs. Do please 
see, if you can put them together. I shall be so grateful.” 

Hill took the slips of paper and glanced at them, stand- 
ing rather stiffly polite before the ladies. Hill had that 
deferential air of mingled modesty and respect towards 
ladies, which always wins their encouragement. 

“ You must do as you are bid, Mr. Hill,” said Mrs. 
Ogle, looking up archly from her writing, not willing to be 
entirely omitted from the attention of this good-looking 
young man. 

“ Do be seated,” said Miss Ravenhill, “ and take my 
pencil and paper, I will be so much obliged.” 

Hill made some faint objection. He did not sit down. 
He read the sentence which had been given to him, and 
smiled as he saw Ketchum eyeing him mischievously. 
Lawrence Hill’s smile would have won him the favor of 
more exacting critics, than those before him. He saw 
that Ketchum thought him driven into an awkward cor- 
ner. After a moments thought, however, he took a book 
from the bench by his side and wrote. He handed the 
paper to Miss Ravenhill, raised his hat and walked away. 

Mr. Cripps returned to his place shortly. The verses 
were finished and were forthwith read. 

Mr. Cripps with some satisfaction promptly recited. 

“ England expects every man to do his duty, 

And five Englishmen out of six 
Would say that it was a beastly Yankeeism 
To call money “ spondulix” 


CRAMBO. 


39 

This production was listened to in solemn silence, but 
Mr. Cripps laughed his dry business-like laugh, and said : 

“ Really, you know, it is not difficult to make verses.” 
Ketchum’s turn came next, and he favored the com- 
pany with the following brilliant recitation : 

“In Boston there lived an intelligent maid, 

Who commonly wore her hair in a braid, 

But when she had time, on tea-kettle’s spout 
In beautiful ringlets she curled it out ; 

And the foolish old tea-kettle puffed away, 

In tenderest tones, and seemed to say. 

Shaking its jolly little black nob 
Do you, my dear, love a thing-um-bob .” 

“That’s very good,” said Mrs. Ogle. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Cripps, “ but I don’t see, you know, 
how she could curl her hair on the spout of a kettle.” 

Mrs. Ogle then read : 

“ Once in gay prognostication , 

Love controlled the world’s rotation, 

Now this power the world turns round, 

Twenty shillings make one pound." 

“ Hear, hear !” said Mr. Cripps, “ really very good, very 
good indeed. I say, you know, we are doing very well in 
making poetry. It murst be the sea air. Ellen,” turning 
to Miss Ravenhill, “ can you do as well ?” 

Then Miss Ravenhill, who seemed slightly less calm 
than usual, read : 

“ Who is here so vile that does not love his country ? 

Surely, only he, self-bounded in effront’ry, 

Who loves not all the world, as well 
As that dear spot wherein his kindred dwell, 

Surely not she, who, with Arcadian smile, 

Can love the treacherous ocean, even while 


40 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Her voice sets music to the tender thought, 

That ships have sailed and never found a port ” 

“Rubbish,” said Mr. Cripps. “ I say, Ellen, you should 
have asked me to write your verses.” 

Ketchum was puzzled. 

Mrs. Ogle bit the end of her pencil, and nodded to 
Ellen Ravenhill, who showed a heightened color. 

Mrs. Ogle said, soon afterwards to Ketchum, “ I wish 
that your friend. Mr. Hill, would be more sociable.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


SMOOTH SEAS AND PLEASANT WORDS. 

L AWRENCE HILL spent a considerable part of his 
abundant leisure in asking himself questions con- 
cerning Ellen Ravenhill. How did a young lady of sin- 
gular refinement come to be the adopted daughter of the 
common man, Thomas Cripps ? If he had had any hand in 
her training, how had she been so fortunate as to escape 
all trace t f his influence ? What was there in common 
between them ? What kept them together ? They never 
sought each other’s society, yet they did not avoid each 
other. He had other ways of occupying his time than in 
talking to her. She seemed well-contented to be disre- 
garded by him. She did not wait for him to go to din- 
ner. She never interrupted him in his pursuits. What 
strange circumstance of life constituted the tie, which 
made them traveling companions ? 

Lawrence Hill began to make up his mind that he 
would have a talk with Miss Ravenhill. The demands 
of curiosity became more formidable than the dread of 
Reuben Ketchum’s jeers. 

An opportunity came to him soon enough, Miss Raven- 
hill spent nearly as much time as he in lonesome contem- 
plation. She would frequently walk forward through the 
steerage passengers and sailors, and stand near the watch 

41 


42 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


on the high bow. Hill approached her here and spoke 
to her. A large shark came near to the ship, and they 
leaned on the rail and looked down into the smooth 
water. They could see the full length of the ugly mon- 
ster. The sea was full of purple anemones. Hill said 
that it seemed to him like looking into a jar of pickled 
cauliflower. 

“ A most ridiculous comparison, Mr Hill,” said the 
young lady, “ perhaps the shark looks to you a pickled 
gherkin.” 

So they began to get on well together. 

“Are you not a poet, Mr. Hill ?” 

“Indeed, I should be sorry to say so. If I were a poet 
I could best answer, by asking you a question. Are you 
not a beautiful woman, Miss Ravenhill ?” 

“I can answer you very decidedly, no, indeed, Mr. 
Hill.” 

“ Ah ! Miss Ravenhill, you are no more fitted to answer 
that question than a poet would be to answer that which 
you asked. Poetry like beauty is not self-asserting. A 
man cannot be a poet, and a woman cannot be a beauty 
by so announcing themselves. The poet and the beauty 
will both be discovered by a discriminating world, and fit- 
ly named.” 

“ Then, Mr. Hill, in behalf of a discriminating world, I 
say that you are a poet.” 

“ And I say, Miss Ravenhill, in behalf of one of your 
discriminating fellowmen, that you are a beautiful 
woman.” 

These last words came slowly, while he turned upon 
her his playful eyes and laughing face, as if he wished to 


SMOOTH SEAS AND PLEASANT WORDS. 


43 


stop if she should be offended. But he finished his sen- 
tence. Her face became quite crimson, but she answered 
calmly, 

“ I do not wish to be complimented, sir,” and after a 
moment, she added, “ I thought you an Englishman. You 
looked so like an Englishman. But now I think you an 
American.” 

He leaned over the vessel’s side and looked soberly into 
the sea. 

“I am what you please to call me,” he said, “under the 
old barbarous manner of classifying men according to the 
locality in which they happen to come into the world, I 
admit that I am an American.” 

“ I do not quite understand your meaning,” she said. 

“ Why should you ask,” he went on, “ whether I am an 
American or an Englishman. I perceive by the change 
in your voice, that, as soon as you put me down in 
your mind an American, you entertained a prejudice 
against me. This prejudice is unworthy of you as 
a sensible young woman. It is proper and reasonable 
that you should ask, what is my character, and judge me 
according to that. But my having been born in America, 
is an independent circumstance which should not be taken 
into the account.” 

“ But don’t you think, that all men love their own coun- 
try-men best ?” 

“ All savages do,” he answered, “ and promptly kill all 
strangers who come into their power.” 

“ But all civilized people, ” 

‘All semi-civilized people,” he interrupted, “exhibit 
the same brutal prejudice in a lesser degree. Men show 


44 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


their enlightenment by recognizing all men as fellowmen, 
by overlooking all distinctions of race or neighborhood.” 

“But must not one love her native land, more than 
other countries ?” 

“I do not see why she should.” 

“ Do you not love America better than England ?” 

“ No — o,” said Lawrence Hill in a drawling tone, as if 
it cost him an effort to say so. 

“ O, you cannot mean that, you must love your country 
better than any other in the world. I know you do, but 
you make yourself say otherwise. Why, I love England — 
I cannot tell you how much — inexpressibly. My country 
is always in my thoughts. If I had no England, it would 
be like losing my life. I cannot imagine a human being 
without love of country.” 

The young woman glowed with her kindled enthusiasm. 

“Your sentiments are noble, Miss Ravenhill,” said Hill 
solemnly, “ but let me assure you that you see before you 
the unimaginable man you have described. If I found 
that my life could be more pleasantly or usefully passed 
in England than in America, I would become an English- 
man without hesitation. I have no sentimental patriotism.” 

“ O, I do not see how you can speak so. Do you know, 
it seems to me like blasphemy.” She continued, “ I have 
been a year in America, and all the time I have been 
homesick for England. It is not because I have friends 
or relatives whom I care to see, for I have none. But I 
love the dear land, and long to set my foot on it once 
more. I think that nothing could tempt me to leave it 
again. I sigh for the breath of the air of England ; other 
air is only a base means of maintaining life, but English 


SMOOTH SEAS AND PLEASANT WORDS. 45 

air is an elixir. It brings joy and exultation. If I were an 
American, I should love America, as I now love England.” 

Her tone was full, rich and melodious. Every word 
was delicately and sweetly enunciated. Her ardor was 
wonderfully becoming. He listened in admiration, and 
did not speak when she paused, he hoped that she would 
speak .again. 

“ Do you know,” she said after a moment’s thought, “ I 
do not think that I could respect a man who did not love 
his country.” 

“ I hope that you will reserve your sentence upon me,” 
he said. 

“ I am sorry that I cannot call you a patriot,” was her 
reply, and he answered : 

“ I pray you, then, write me as one who loves his fel- 
low men.” 

She smiled sweetly, and they walked back towards the 
stern of the ship. 

It may not be necessay to say that after this conversa- 
tion Lawrence Hill had very little fear of Reuben Ket- 
chum, but talked with Ellen Ravenhill whenever proprie- 
ty and circumstances would allow. 

It piqued Hill to think that this charming young wo- 
man insisted upon fixing a gulf between them, because 
she happened to be an Englishwoman and he an Ameri- 
can. The gulf, however, was more imaginary than real, 
for it was only at rare intervals that she adopted the ex- 
asperating manner, which she supposed expressed inter- 
national courtesy. When their conversation became ani- 
mated, he was treated with the cordiality of a fellow- 
countryman. 


4 6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Sometimes with mild satire, she styled herself a “ patri- 
otic savage,” or a “ half civilized person with brutal pre- 
judices.” But she often spoke seriously in the sweetly 
modulated voice, which Hill loved to hear. 

Reuben Ketchum, shrewd plotter that he was, held his 
peace. He observed the frequent walks and talks, but he 
did not intend to spoil his laugh by laughing prematurely. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE PAT RIOTS. 

T HE Arcadia approached the end of her voyage, with- 
out accident or hinderance. It had been one of 
the smoothest voyages on her log-book. 

Miss Ravenhill had arisen at three o’clock on the morn- 
ing of the last day at sea, to catch the first sight of land, 
and Lawrence Hill found her seated on the forward deck, 
wrapped in her gray cloak. She seemed to him like a 
monumental figure, typifying the calm hope of a future 
life. She pointed out to him a faint cloud, like the ghost 
of a hay-stack on the eastern horizon, which a sailor had 
told Jier was one of the Skelligs. 

“ There is Ireland,” she said, “ and my dear England 
is just beyond.” 

To have shared her feelings, Lawrence Hill might have 
been willing at that moment to swear allegiance to the 
Queen. In fact, I am not sure that he would not have 
accepted the thirty-nine articles, and bowed an unreason- 
ing worshipper of the Church of England. 

The morning sun soon lit up the eastern sky, and shot 
its beams over the hills of Kerry. Miss Ravenhill con- 
tinued in a quiet ecstacy. Her low musical voice answer- 
ed him in monosyllables. She did not care to talk. She 
hardly tasted her morning coffee. 


47 


48 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


As they entered and steamed up the Channel, the pic- 
turesque coast afforded a welcome panorama to the ocean- 
wearied passengers. It was a thrice welcome sight to 
every Englishman or Irishman on board the ship. Hill 
perceived that all these people, of whatever condition or 
character, had a new light in their eyes, and an unsup- 
pressed enthusiasm in their voices. This patriotic fervor 
was roused to its highest pitch by the sight of the English 
Channel fleet. Eight large iron ships of war came steaming 
down in line of battle. 

Then Mr. Cripps discoursed on the glory of England. 
Mr. Cripps was not a dealer in fine feelings, but, even 
Mr. Cripps loved his country after his own manner of 
loving. 

“ Look at England’s navy,” he said, “ where would we 
be if one of those big guns should open fire on us ? There’s 
that forty ton gun carries a ball as big as a hogshead. 
Suppose that ball should strike us amidships — sink us, 
sir, in five minutes.” 

“ They might not hit us,” said Ketchum, “ Englishmen 
sometimes fire too high. They fired too high at the battle 
of New Orleans.” 

“ I’m sure I hope they will not try to hit us,” said Mrs. 
Ogle, to whom the idea of being struck by a hostile iron 
hogshead was particularly unpleasant. 

“ Look at England’s merchant service,” continued Mr. 
Cripps, “ ships in every quarter of the world. What do 
you think is the aggregate tonnage of England’s merchant 
service ? The aggregate tonnage of England’s merchant 
service will surprise you, Mr. Ogle, if^ou are not familiar 
with the figures.” 


THE PATRIOTS. 


49 

The great American financier admitted his ignorance 
on this point. 

“ Six millions of tons sir, six millions of tons ! Doesn’t 
that astonish you ?” 

Mr. Ogle confessed himself astonished. 

Ketchum said, “ if you reduce it to pounds, the number 
. will sound still larger.” 

“ Then, sir, you take the English army. It is small, 
sir, in numbers, compared with continental armies, but it 
is true grit. You’ll see, sir, when you reach London. 
There you’ll see the Life Guards. Ah ! sir, those fellows 
can ride ! Beautiful horses ! Magnificent uniforms ! 
When those fellows make a charge it is conquer or die. 
No backing out for them. You remember what the 
Duke of Wellington — the Iron Duke we call him — said 
to the Guards at Waterloo. He said, you know, ‘ up 
Guards and at ’em.’ ” 

“ Are the Life Guards now in London, the Guards 
who were at Waterloo ?” asked Ketchum, cutting Mr. 
Cripps short. 

“ Yes, sir” said Mr. Cripps, “the same Guards.” 

“ And do they still ride the same horses they rode at 
Waterlooo ?” asked Ketchum. 

“ No, sir, certainly not,” said Cripps. 

“ O,” said Ketchum, “ I’m sorry for that, 1 thought the 
wonderful English climate might preserve the horses, as 
well as the men. I would like so much to see the horses 
which were at Waterloo, wouldn’t you, Mrs. Ogle ? 
Haven’t they one of those horses left to show us, Mr. 
Cripps ?” 

“ No, sir, it is too absurd,” said the matter of fact 


5 ° 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Cripps, “ it is the same organization, sir, not the same 
horses or the same men who were at Waterloo. Those 
are all dead or retired long ago.” 

“ That is a great disappointment to me,” said Ketchum, 
“ I hoped to see some British soldiers who had seen actual 
service, and Waterloo was the last fight of any account in 
which they were engaged.” 

Mr. Cripps abandoned the army, and turned his patriot- 
ism to the arts of peace. He addressed Mr. Ogle. 

“Take our cities, where will you find cities to compare 
with them ? There’s Manchester ; nothing like it in the 
world. And Liverpool. Did you ever see anything to 
equal the Liverpool docks ? I submit it to you as an Am- 
erican and a fair-minded man, if the docks of Liverpool, 
are not finer than anything you have ever seen.” 

Mr. Ogle was obliged to admit the possibility of this 
assertion. As he had never seen the docks of Liverpool, 
he was not competent to give an opinion. 

“You will see them to-morrow. Then you shall say if 
I am not right.” 

“ Mr. Cripps, have you ever seen the great wall of 
China ?” asked Ketchum. 

“ No, sir,” replied Cripps. 

“ Ah ! there’s a structure which knocks spots out of your 
Liverpool docks.” 

“ The two works are of totally different nature, sir, 
they cannot be compared,” answered Cripps slightly irri- 
tated. 

Ketchum confided to Mrs, Ogle, whose smiles encour- 
aged his raillery, that for breadth and foreshortening, and 
general gorgeousness, the Chinese wall beat the world. 


THE PATRIOTS. 


51 


But Mr. Cripps continued addressing Mr. Ogle. 

“ If you go in for antiquity, sir, there’s Chester. If you 
want fine parks and country houses, there is Chatsworth. 
But, sir, London will astonish you. There’s a city ! 
Every other city you have ever seen, will seem a mere 
village to you after London. There’s Regent Street. I’ve 
heard Americans talk of Broadway. Broadway is very 
well until you have seen Regent Street. Why sir, Broad- 
way is a mere alley compared with Regent Street. 

“ Indeed,” said Mr. Ogle. 

“ I suppose Regent Street is some twenty miles long or 
so ?” said Ketchum. 

“No, sir,” answered Thomas Cripps, “the beauty of 
Regent Street is not in its length, it is in its width, and 
the architecture of its buildings.” 

“ Give me a long street,” said Ketchum, “ I don’t care 
so much for width and architecture.” 

“ There’s State Street in Chicago, Cripps,” said Mr. 
Ogle timidly, “ Is Regent Street broader and finer than 
State Street ?” 

“ O immeasurably,” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ And the weather in London, Mr. Cripps,” said Ket- 
chum, as if anxious for information, “ they most always 
have sunshiny days there, do they not ? : 

It rains there occasionally, as it does in other cities,” 
answers Cripps. 

“ But you never have any fog in London. In fact, I 
suppose the English people always carry umbrellas to 
protect themselves against the sun.” 

“ No, sir, we do have fog, and we do carry umbrellas to 
keep off the rain. But ours are pleasant, healthy fogs, 


52 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


not like your fogs in America, giving a man chills and 
rheumatism. Why, sir, I never minded damp mornings 
in England. They always agreed with me. But when I 
got myself wet in Chicago, I was ill for a month.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


IN THE MERSEY. 

T HE next morning the Arcadia came into the Mer- 
sey. The fog hung thick over the land, a “ pleas- 
ant, healthy fog,” as Ketchum remarked, which caused 
the passengers to tie up their throats as they stood shiver- 
ing on deck. 

But at last they saw looming up through the mist the 
houses and steeples of Liverpool and Birkenhead. 

The little party all stood together, watching the river 
craft, and pointing out to each other the new sights 
which came into view. Hill was with them, by the side 
of Miss Ravenhill. His reserve had entirely disappeared. 
The approach of their separation seemed to make him 
intimate with all of the young lady’s friends. 

Ketchum was -in a mocking mood. “ Where are the 
great Liverpool docks, Mr. Cripps ? ” 

“There, sir, there; do you not see them?” They 
line the shore, and stretch on miles up the river.” 

“ O, yes,” said Ketchum, in a tone of well assumed 
disappointment ; “ and that is all there is of them, is 
it?” 

“ That, sir ! It is a stupendous work. Cost millions 
of pounds. There’s nothing like it in America, and 
there never will be, sir.” 


53 


54 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“01 guess so,” responded the exasperating Ketchum. 
“ There, now, we are opposite the landing-stage,” said 
Cripps. “ Do you see that long floating platform. That 
is the landing-stage. That we consider a wonderful 
work. It is over one thousand feet long. Have you 
anything like that in America ? ” 

“ It cannot be compared with some of our lumber 
rafts,” answered Ketchum, “ either in length, breadth or 
picturesqueness. We can beat you ‘ to death’ in rafts of 
that sort.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


KETCHUM RECEIVES A TELEGRAM. 

I F the reader is a hard-working man or woman, and 
has ever enjoyed a charming vacation, free from the 
perplexing questions which strain the nerves while keep- 
ing one’s place in the race of life, he or she will remember 
the disgust which took .possession of the soul at the first 
suggestion of a return to business. We can prove by 
Paley’s celebrated argument that man was intended to 
spend his time in enjoying himself. All the wheels of 
his machinery move most smoothly and harmoniously 
when he is solely occupied in pursuing his careless 
pleasure. Why should we not then perpetuate our va- 
cations, and glorify our mechanisms ? 

Alas ! sin and mail-carriers, and the struggle for life 
and. telegrams, come to clog our wheels, and throw out 
of gear our serenest thoughts. What magnificent crea- 
tures we would be if there were no such things as debts 
and balance sheets ! How we would grow like gods to- 
gether, if we could abolish the necessity for those boasted 
products of civilization, banks and courts of law ! 

Reuben Ketchum was enjoying himself. He was par- 
ticularly happy. The society in which he found himself 
was agreeable. He had in Mr. Cripps an excellent sub- 
ject for light chaffing. Mr. Cripps had just that degree 

55 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


56 

of obtuseness, just that lack of sensitiveness, which made 
this favorite amusement of his easy and safe. He had 
also in Mrs. Ogle a listener who appreciated his humor, 
and whose presence gave him a piquant encouragement. 
He had left all care among his law books in Cayuga. He 
might, therefore, well be annoyed when the red-faced 
purser handed to him a cable dispatch from America, 
which the little black tender had brought from the shore. 
His spirits received a sudden chill at the sight of the 
business-like envelope. 

“ Ha ! news from the other side,” asked Mr. Ogle. 

“ I hope that it is good news,” said Mrs. Ogle. 

Ketchum tore open the covering of the telegram, and 
his countenance was very grave as he glanced at its con- 
tents. He said nothing, but he moved away from the 
group of his friends, and read it more carefully. Some 
of his new friends would have been more grave than he, 
if they had looked over his shoulder. 

“ Shadow Hannibal Ogle, passenger on Arcadia. Wait 
our letters. Very important.” 

This singular telegram was signed by a firm of lawyers 
prominent in the United States, and well known to 
Ketchum. 

Here was an end to his plans of travel and undisturbed 
recreation. But his disappointment was at once over- 
come by curiosity, and by the eagerness with which his 
keen mind began to adapt itself to his new objects. 

When he rejoined the Ogle’s he had formed a plan of 
action. He would stay near them after landing as long 
as possible. If he could arrange it, he would be their 
traveling companion. He would not tell to Hill the 


KETCHUM RECEIVES A TELEGRAM. 


57 


import of his telegram until it became necessary. 

Accordingly he volunteered the information : 

“ I have bad news, which may make it necessary for 
me to return to America sooner than I expected. It may 
break up my vacation altogether. I cannot tell until I 
get letters. I am safe for a few days at least, and I mean 
to make, the best of that.” 

He received much condolence. 

Mr. Ogle kindly said : “ I had hoped that we might 
see you often during the summer. We are, very likely, 
going to the same places, and we would be glad to have 
your company.” 

“ Yes,” added Mrs. Ogle, “ that would be nice. Per- 
haps you may join us yet, if you have better news.’ 

Ketchum bowed his grateful acknowledgments. He 
had had much experience of villains, but he would hardly 
have put Mr. Ogle in that category. He wondered why 
Mr. Ogle was to be shadowed. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


LANDING. 

K ETCHUM’S spirits returned amidst the excitement 
of leaving the steamer. The passengers and their 
baggage were taken off in mid-stream by a tender, and 
landed at the Prince’s Landing stage, where, in a long, 
low wooden building, the custom-house inspectors were 
waiting to examine their luggage. 

“ Go with me,” said Mr. Cripps to his party, including 
Hill and Ketchum. “ I will show you how to get your 
luggage passed. If you have anything contraband in your 
boxes, slip five bob or so into the inspector’s hand when 
he comes to you, and it will be all right.” 

“ What ! ” said Ketchum, “ must I aid in corrupting 
the British government, the model civil-service of the 
world ! ” 

“ You can say what you like,” replied Cripps, “but it 
is the customary thing here. Every one understands it. 
And they can easily make you trouble, and keep you 
waiting until night-fall, unless you give them something.” 

“ I thought that they had free trade in England,” said 
Mr. Ogle, innocently, somewhat surprised that the annoy- 
ance of custom-house examinations must be submitted 
to. 

“Yes,” said Ketchum; “we as patriotic American 
citizens object to paying bribes to any but our own 

58 


LANDING. 


59 


custom-house officers. We reserve our illegal fees for 
our fellow countrymen, the virtuous inspectors in New 
York.” 

“ Do as you please,” replied Cripps ; “ My way is the 
easiest.” 

And so they found by experience, for Cripps secured 
the passing of his own and Mr. Ogle’s baggage long be- 
fore the young Americans could attract any attention to 
their modest traps. 

While they were standing on the floating platform, Mr 
Cripps said : 

“ This is really satisfactory, you know, to be once more 
in old England. Ah ! you Americans have a rare treat 
before you. This is but a beginning.” 

“ Rather a slow beginning,” said Ketchum. “ But I 
feel very much at home already. The manners of the 
accommodating examiners of baggage are singularly fa- 
miliar, and this magnificent custom-house of yours re- 
minds me of the railway station at Omaha, and this 
landing-stage, as you call it, is really a very creditable 
raft. That handsome young woman yonder, with the 
well oiled hair, selling tarts and biscuit, I’m sure I’ve seen 
before behind a lunch counter somewhere out West, 
where she called the same delicacies pies and sweet 
crackers. I’m not positive, but the ham in those sand- 
wiches looks familiar, and it is- very likely that they are 
the same sandwiches I tried vainly to eat in Sioux City, 
more than a year ago.” 

“ That is impossible, sir. No one would be such a fool 
as to import sandwiches from America,” answered Cripps. 
“ There, sir,” he added, wishing to change the subject ; 


6o 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ there is one of our ferry-boats. What sturdy little 
things they are ! " 

“ Great Scott ! ” said Ketchum, “ you call that little 
black tug a ferry-boat. Well, I’ll be blowed ! You 
ought to send a deputation of your first citizens to New 
York to learn how to build ferry-boats. Why, the mean- 
est man in Jersey City would refuse to ride on such a 
miserable apology for a ferry-boat. By the way, when 
do you expect to build a bridge across this river here ?” 

“ It is not probable that it will ever be bridged,” re- 
plied Cripps, somewhat crestfallen. 

“ That is enough,” said Ketchum. “ Dont talk to me 
of British enterprise. Why, if this little stream had been 
fortunate enough to be located in America, we would 
long ago have formed a company, and sold stock and 
issued bonds, and obtained a grant from the city and an 
appropriation from Congress, and very likely we might 
by this time have had a pier or two of a proposed bridge 
half constructed. We are a go-ahead people, we are.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


LIVERPOOL. 

M R. CRIPPS was in no haste to separate himself 
and Miss Ravenhill from the Ogles, now that he 
had reached his native land, even for a day. It might 
have been presumed that he would have friends to see or 
business which needed his attention. But he seemed 
solely occupied in assisting the Americans to obtain a 
knowledge of England. He constituted himself their 
guide, made plans for them, and gave them the benefit of 
his constant advice and information. 

The little party whom we have described went to a 
hotel, and Cripps made them all promise to go with him 
to spend a Sunday in North Wales, after having had a 
day or two in Liverpool. After that he said they would 
go together to London, stopping for a day in Chester. 
To this plan Hill offered some objections. He felt that 
he had no right to attach himself to these people in this 
manner. It complicated with his well-established notions 
of personal independence. But he allowed himself to be 
persuaded by Ketchum. 

This astute reasoner pointed out to him the advantage 
to be derived from Cripps’ knowledge of the country ; 
also, the greater pleasure to be derived from sight-seeing 
in the company of agreeable ladies. 

61 


62 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


He said, “ I don’t intend to remind you of any foolish 
sayings you may have made at the beginning of our 
voyage, about not making acquaintances among your 
fellow-travelers. You acted like a Spartan and took the 
bread and water of solitary meditation as if you liked it. 
You proved your fortitude and I am satisfied. With the 
exception of a few rather suspicious conversations with 
an amiable English girl, your record is spotless. You 
are, as you undertook to be, an unknown quantity to the 
passengers by the Arcadia. Now let us be sociable, take 
advantage of our opportunities, and go to Wales and 
London with these people.” 

Hill allowed himself to be persuaded. He excused 
himself for so readily yielding his habitual reserve by 
saying that he would only remain in the company a few 
days at most. They would reach London in less than a 
week, when he would separate from them permanently. 
Whether the sweet contentment which he discerned in 
Ellen Ravenhill’s face when this plan was proposed, 
influenced him or not, we will not say. Miss Ravenhill 
often looked contented. 

Lawrence Hill questioned his friend at the first oppor- 
tunity concerning the unimportant news contained in the 
cable message from America, but received only evasive 
replies. He thought, therefore, that the intelligence was 
of a private nature, and ceased to be inquisitive. 

Ketchum however assured him that he would not 
change his plans for the Summer, at present, and he 
hoped that letters soon to be received would inform him 
that he could continue his vacation without interruption. 

Meanwhile, Ketchum engaged the services of a pro- 


LIVERPOOL. 63 

fessional detective, and received a daily minute report of 
all of the unsuspicious Mr. Ogle’s goings and comings. 

Our little party took dinner together on the evening of 
the day after their arrival. They had spent the day in 
shopping and in driving about Liverpool. 

Mr. Cripps was in excellent spirits. The unfamiliarity 
of his friends with the ways of the city was a great source 
of amusement to him. They seemed to him to be 
making themselves the victims of endless practical jokes. 
He thought it the “ rummest go ” that they did not know 
the names of the streets and the directions in which they 
were going. He would refuse to guide them, and when 
they appealed to any of the helmet-covered policemen for 
information he would explode with laughter. 

Ketchum had stood his full share of this rather dubious 
humor. Ketchum was the most conspicuously marked 
as a foreigner of any of the party. His very negligent 
slouched hat and his chin beard convicted him at once 
as not being an Englishman. In consequence of his 
appearance he had been treated to a number of “ stony 
British stares,” had heard himself called a “ Brother 
Jonathan ” with a sneer which was not flattering, and 
had suffered the irritation of being overcharged by a cab- 
man. Wise man that he was however, he had bottled up 
his wrath. But inwardly he parodied Nero’s wish, and 
longed to have the whole British nation as one man in 
the prisoner’s dock in the Court of Cayuga County, that 
he might have free swing to give it a setting-out before a 
jury of his own countrymen. 

Ketchum’s amiability was not increased? by learning 
that Hill had ordered a suit of clothes cut in the latest 


6 4 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


English fashion, had purchased a tall hat and a natty 
umbrella, and was in all respects, even to his boots and 
gloves, undistinguishable from a full-blooded Briton. 

Hill said, as they were going to dinner : 

“ Ketchum, I will make a bet with you.” 

“ Bet that I’m in love with this infernal country and its 
institutions, and I’ll do it.” 

“ Done,” said Hill, “ the stakes are new hats, and if 
I’ve lost, you are to exchange that graceful chapeau of 
yours for an English plug at my expense.” 

“ Not much,” answered Ketchum, “I would not swap 
that old hat for the Queen’s crown. That hat is the 
diadem of an independent American citizen, and I always 
wear it when among the minions of tyranny. Don’t you 
insult the cap of Liberty. — You base truckler to foreign 
fashions.” 

Mr. Cripps began the conversation : 

“Ton my word, I must tell you a joke; the richest 
joke of the season, Mr. Ogle. It is a joke on Mrs. Ogle, 
but it is too good to keep. Mrs. Ogle and myself were 
in Bold Street. I had just said to her that I knew a 
pretty shop in Lord Street, where she would find cheap 
gloves. Then I asked her suddenly what street we were 
in at that moment, and what do you think she said ? It 
is the best joke I ever heard. She said that we were in 
Lord Street. Ha ! ha ! I led her right into it.” 

“ Into the pretty shop ? ” asked Ketchum. 

“ No, sir ; into the joke.” 

O,” said Ketchum. “ Do you write for Punch , Mr. 
Cripps ? That sounds to me very like some of Punch's 
best.” 


LIVERPOOL. 


65 


“ I’ve a mind to send it to Punch" said Mr. Cripps. 

“ Let me urge you to do so at once, while it is fresh in 
your memory,” said Ketchum. “ Parliament would doubt- 
less vote you a cap and bells when they heard of it, and 
the Queen might invite you to Court. Who knows ; you 
might become the Jester Laureate of England.” 

“ I do not know of such an office,” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ You are a ridiculous man,” said Mrs. Ogle ; and Mr. 
Cripps thought that she was speaking to him, and was 
abundantly rewarded for his unusual humor. 

“ I hope you enjoy this beef, Mr. Ogle,” said Mr. 
Cripps, presently. “ You do not find such beef in your 
country.” 

“ Excellent beef,” responded the gentleman addressed. 

Mr. Cripps helped himself liberally to the mustard, and 
then said : 

“ This is the first beef worth eating which I have tasted 
since I left England. Ah ! sir, this is a luxury.” 

“ If you took a spoonful of mustard with every mouth- * 
ful, you might find English chips equally as palatable,” 
observed Ketchum. 

“ Ah ! sir,” said the good natured Cripps, “ the mus- 
tard is an excellent relish.” 

Ketchum observed : “ I’ve had the pleasure of seeing 
several Englishmen eat beef, and every one of them 
thought it necessary to smother it in mustard. It is my 
opinion that Englishmen do not know the taste of the 
celebrated roast beef of old England.” 

“ Fiddle-faddle,” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ Great Scott ! ” exclaimed Ketchum. “ I knew that 
there was something familiar about the beef. Don’t you 


66 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


notice it ? It is some of Deacon Popson’s bitter beef. 
I heard that the old man had shipped it to England* 
when he found it unsaleable in America.” 

The company looked astonished. 

“ What’s that ? ” said Hill, 

“ I don’t catch your meaning,” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ Why, you see, old Popson, who lives in our country, 
had a herd of the finest critters ever seen, which he was 
fattening to kill. The old fellow is a little stingy, and a 
little set in his way. He’d raised a big crop of bitter 
turnips. The neighbors all told him if he fed the turnips 
to the critters, they would spoil the beef, but the old 
fellow said he’d risk it, and he put all the turnips into 
the critters. And sure enough, the flesh of the first one 
of the critters which he killed in the spring, was not fit 
for a white man to eat. It was as fine looking, juicy 
beef as you ever saw, but bitter as poison. He had to 
throw it away. But he sent the rest of his herd to New 
* York, and shipped ’em to England, where he said they 
went in for looks, and didn’t mind about the taste. Now, 
if this is not that very beef, I’m mistaken. Can’t you 
taste the turnips ? ” 

Hill and Mrs. Ogle laughed outright. 

Mrs. Ogle’s melancholy eyes actually twinkled with 
delight. 

But Mr. Cripps was sober and anxious. 

“ Try a bit of the beef, Mr. Cripps, without mustard,” 
urged Ketchum, whose solemn countenance did not change. 

Mr. Cripps barely touched it to his tongue. “ Waiter,” 
he called ; “ waiter, take away this beef. This is Ameri- 
can beef. It is an outrage to serve such beef.” 


LIVERPOOL. 


6 ; 

The obedient waiter removed the offensive beef, and 
soon returned with profuse apologies. The beef was 
indeed American. But it was the only beef to be had 
in market that day. The mistake should not occur 
again. 

It was some time before the majority of the party re- 
covered their composure so that they could resume their 
dinner. Mr. Cripps continued to growl about the im- 
position which had been practiced upon them, and 
Ketchum gravely sympathized with him. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE COUNTRY. 

T HE excursion to North Wales was Miss Ravenhill’s 
suggestion, to which Mr. Cripps readily made his 
own plan. She wished for a Sunday in the country, and 
her remembrance of the Conway valley led her to choose 
that romantic and easily accessible spot as a suitable rural 
retreat. Mr. Cripps wrote and engaged rooms for the 
party at the Waterloo Hotel, at Bettws-y-Coed. 

Miss Ravenhill’s low-voiced descriptions of this charm- 
ing spot stirred Lawrence Hill’s enthusiam, and even 
awakened Reuben Ketchum’s curiosity. 

“ It is a delightful little Eden among the mountains,” 
she said, “ where poets dream and artists sketch pretty 
views.” 

“ Yes,” said Cripps, “ and I can promise you prime 
angling.” 

“ There are lovely ruins and shady walks, and bright 
streams tumbling over glistening rocks, and flowing under 
queer old briges. The simple-minded people speak noth- 
ing but Welsh, and are very polite and respectful, not at 
all like the common people in America.” 

“ Let us go, by all means,” said Ketchum. “ The 
name sounds American. Who is Betsey Coit, anyhow ? 
Does she come from New England ? Perhaps Hill knew 
the family. I’ve heard of the Coits of New London.” 

68 


THE COUNTRY. 


69 

Then Mr. Cripps explained that Bettws-y-Coed was 
Welsh, and was the name of a place, and not of a woman, 
and he laboriously expounded the orthography, while 
Ketchum listened apparently unconvinced. He replied 
that he guessed it was only a Welsh way of spelling, and 
that if the matter were investigated, he had no doubt it 
would be found that Betsey Coit was a Yankee spinster, 
who, once on a time, settled in the place, and taught the 
people to make pumpkin pies and bake beans, and they 
named the town for her out of gratitude. 

Mr. Cripps pronounced this speculation “ all poppy- 
cock,” but Ketchum persisted in speaking of their inten- 
tion of visiting Betsey. 

The little party were gathered on the deck of a small 
steamer, which lay at Prince’s Landing-stage, and which 
was to carry them along the north shore of Wales to 
Llandudno, from which place they were to travel by rail 
up the Conway valley to Bettws-y-Coed. 

Hill came last, dressed in new garments, with silk hat 
and umbrella and hat box, looking for all the world a 
handsome Englishman. Ketchum stepped forward, and 
with mock gravity introduced him to the company as “ my 
Lord Fashion-plate, lately created a peer of the realm, by 
virtue of the authority vested in the tailors ofLiverpool.” 

The well-behaved English people around them stared, 
and Hill’s good nature was severly tried. He is a good 
fellow indeed, who can endure patiently raillery against 
his new clothes. 

I might describe this journey at length. It was full of 
unimportant incidents which prevented stupid monotony 
getting even a place in their thoughts. A few hours on 


70 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


the Irish sea, with a picturesque coast near by, on which 
they could show each other towns and fine estates, and 
beyond the mountains, and hazy in the distance, the round 
top of old Snowdon. Mr. Cripps knew every inch of the 
country. He took a harmless delight in following with 
his eye the smoke of a railway train which wound along 
out of sight among the hills and trees. He could not 
deny himself the satisfaction of fancying what would have 
been the consequences, if they had made their journey by 
rail instead of by water. 

They left the steamboat at Llandudno, a town built for 
summer visitors, on a sand bar lying under the land-side 
of the Great Orene’s Head — a dark rocky promontory. 
There they were taken in big row-boats to a stony beach, 
where crowds of idle people looked on while numerous 
importunate porters struggled over their luggage. 

After a short walk through the town, they were .duly 
booked for Bettws-y-Coed and seated in a railway carriage. 
A rapid view of Conway Castle, several charming glimpses 
of landscapes as they were whisked along the the bank of 
a shallow river, and before they had hardly accustomed 
themselves to the novelty of a ride on a railway, the guide 
opened the door and announced their destination. 

The Americans of the party had their own notions of a 
country hotel. They were instinctively preparing them- 
selves to take quarters in a big barn-like building, with 
long piazzas and large, cheaply furnished public rooms, 
and sleeping rooms which accurately represent the mimi- 
mum of space and comfort which long suffering travelers 
will endure. They hardly realized their mistake when 
they were set down at the neat porch of a handsome stone 


THE COUNTRY. 


71 


house, built in modem gothic style, with numerous pro- 
jecting angles and bay windows, shaded by creepers and 
flanked on both sides by large well kept gardens. They 
entered over the tiled floor of an elegant vestibule, and 
were somewhat embarrassed when not confronted by an 
arrogant young man, glumly thrusting a pen-holder at them 
and pointing to a book of registration, but instead, re- 
ceived by a trim maid servant in cap and apron, who invi- 
ted them to be seated, and went to call her mistress. 
There was no sign of a hotel visible, and, but that they 
relied on Cripps’ knowledge of his country, the Americans 
would have thought that they had unwittingly intruded 
into a gentlemen’s residence. 

A cheerful and young woman appeared in the charac- 
ter of landlady, greeted them respectfully, and without 
any preliminary questions sent them under the guidance 
of maid servants to their rooms. 

Betsey Coit herself, Ketchum said, couldn’t have made 
them feel more at home. 

They found tastefully furnished bedrooms — the win- 
dows prettily curtained, the walls hung with paintings, the 
linen, white as milk and an indiscribable air of care for 
the comfort of whoever rested there, welcoming them 
whichever way they turned. 

Hill was delighted. He made his toilet with a sense of 
enjoyment. The business of attending to the decencies 
of life, commonly so irksome to the traveler, became a 
pleasure in these hospitable surroundings. He left his room 
feeling that he was a guest of some friend. He found 
Ketchum standing in the front porch, with the manner of 
a proprietor, his hat pulled over his eyes. 


72 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Ketchum said, “ what have we done that we should be 
treated in this way ?” 

“ How ! Are you not satisfied ?” 

“ Satisfied !” replied Ketchum, “ I feel like, the humble 
person in the Arabian Nights, who was entertained by the 
Caliph. I am much more inclined to say to the pretty 
young woman, who seems to run this house, I am not 
used to such luxury, give thy servant a bed in the wood- 
shed, lest he become proud in spirit and murmur against 
the innkeepers of his native land." 

“I must confess,” said Hill, “that this is rather more 
agreeable than I had expected. I was prepared to find 
English county inns, homelike and comfortable, but this 
exceeds my most favorable imagination.” 

“I’ve lived in gilded palaces from San Francisco to 
New York,” said Ketchum, “ but I have never before seen 
a person who could keep a hotel. Why, I don’t know 
how to act in these premises. If I could only see three or 
four men sitting with feet on the window sills, and firing 
away at the spittons, I would feel easy. But as it is, I am 
as awkward as if I were visiting some great swell and was 
on my good behavior.” 

Hill laughed at him and Ketchum gazed solemnly at 
him from under his hat. 

“ What are we do next I’d like to know ? I can’t find 
any place where I think I ought to sit down. I’m not 
quite certain that I ought to stand here.” 

“You look like the owner of the establishment.” said Hill. 

“ If that hospitable young woman should gaze at me a 
little queerly once, I think that I would abandon my 
baggage and run away.” 


THE COUNTRY. 73 

“ We shall probably be invited to dinner soon at table 
d’hote,” said Hill. 

“ Phew ! the suggestion makes rue warm. Do they 
dress for dinner at rural hotels in this country ?” 

Hill laughed at his mock embarrassment. 

A company of thirty or forty ladies and gentlemen assem- 
bled in the parlors and dining-room at the hour of dinner, 
and at the proper time took places, according to their 
fancy, at a long wide table. 

Hill was beside Ellen Ravenhill, whose sweet voice and 
tranquil presence were in particular accord with the easy 
decorum of the meal. 

“ Now you see an English inn,” she said, “ Is it not 
charming ?” 

“The half had not been told me, Miss Ravenhill, I did 
not think it possible that a public house could be conducted 
with such good manners. It seems to me that I am being 
entertained by some unknown friend. You are sure that 
this is not one of Mr. Cripps excellent jokes. Has he not 
introduced us into an English gentlemen’s house, in order 
to make game of us, as Tony Lumpkin serves young 
Marlow in ‘ She Stoops to Conquer.’ ” 

“ O no, Mr. Hill, this is a veritable inn, as you will find 
when you come to pay your reckoning. This is better 
than most rural hotels, but it is some such comfort as this, 
that well-bred English people demand.” 

Ketchum found roast fowls placed opposite to him, and 
he judged by the action of others, that he was expected 
to carve them. He rose to the occasion and ably dis- 
sected the specimens before him, and not to be outdone 


74 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


in urbanity, he politely questioned every person present, 
as to their appetite for fowl. He stood with a tempting 
morsel extending on his carving fork, and urged each one 
in turn to “ have a piece of chicken.” And he did not 
resume his seat nor think of his own dinner, until he had 
fairly exhausted his subject. He whispered to Hill, that 
he guessed he had done the square thing by those 
chickens. 

Mr. Ogle made away with each course which came be- 
fore him, considerably more rapidly than anyone else at 
the table, and became restless at the tardy progress of the 
meal. He left the table alone before the dessert was 
brought on, not because he had anything more agreeably 
to occupy his time, but, because he was so much in the 
habit of dispatching his meals like his business, that he 
could not endure the enforced slowness. In fact, Mr. 
Ogle did not know what to do with himself after he had left 
the table. He walked in the gardens and wondered what 
it cost to build the hotel, and how much land was worth 
in that locality, and perhaps thought of certain other mat- 
ters which were not known to the world at large. 

Meanwhile this pleasant dinner party sat long over the 
nuts and wine. Hill and Miss Ravenhill became interested 
in a placid old gentleman, who sat by them, who mod- 
estly informed them that he was an artist, and had spent 
each summer for twenty years in the Conway valley, and 
knew every rock and tree in it intimately. 

Mr. Cripps and Mrs. Ogle were engaged in conversa- 
tion with a retired naval officer, who had come to Bettws 
for the angling. Mr. Cripps feeling himself at home, was 
disposed more than ever, to disparage American manners 


THE COUNTRY. 


7 5 


and customs. Mrs. Ogle listened demurely, but the old 
naval officer had been in America, and had many good 
things to say of that energetic nation. 

But Ketchum found in his neighbor a solicitor from 
London, spending a few weeks in the country with his 
family. These legal gentlemen got on very well together 
and discussed many questions of international interest 
At the conclusion of the dinner, Ketchum found him- 
self quite at home in the hotel. He was as self-possessed 
as if in one of the model boarding houses of his native 
land. 

The following days were taken up in walks and drives 
through this lovely region. Beautiful roads led in every 
direction, running between high stone walls, which were 
overrun by dark green ivies, and shaded by thick over- 
hanging foliage. Our friends found little glens where 
streams plunged down over black rocks into dark pools. 
They climbed steep paths to rough peaks, and surveyed 
a rugged landscape suggestive of heroic Welshman sus- 
taining life among the fiercest conditions which nature 
lays upon man. But many paths which they followed, led 
through well preserved woods, and brought them fre- 
quently to exquisite views of rocks and water and trees. 
They found ancient bridges and ruins of castles, and 
filled their imaginations with historical romances. They 
even learned some few words of the Welsh language, 
which they practiced in theii intercourse with the rustics 
coming in their way, much to the bewilderment of the 
simple-minded people. 

They learned however, that the simple-minded people 
were well acquainted with the use of gold and silver in 


;6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


transactions between men, and that their notions of the 
values of these excellent media of exchange were' some- 
times surprisingly near the point at which demands for 
labor commodity ceases. This is Lawrence Hill’s man- 
ner for stating the case. Ketchum said that their charges 
were too steep. 

Our friends became convinced that they had not been 
deceived in being told that this was a favorite resort of 
artists and anglers. The woods were full of students of 
nature. The artists were thicker than hamadryads in the 
groves of ancient Thessaly ; the anglers, more numerous 
than nymphs on the streams of Arcadia. Every turn of a 
path, every bend of a brook, brought into view an easel 
or a fishing-rod. 

There was much entertainment in watching the peculiar 
costumes adopted by both sportsmen and painters. The 
Englishman when he shakes off his conventionality of his 
every day life, indulges in a perfect dissipation of fancy. 
He revels in incongruities. He arrays himself in red and 
yellow and blue. He blindly struggles to make of himself 
a harlequin. The painters were less fantastic in their 
dress, but the anglers, as they started each morning for 
their favorite stream, carrying a great variety of peculiar 
fishing gear, were a sight to behold. Ketchum remarked 
that he guessed now people would give his old hat a rest. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


DOLWYDDELAN. 

S UNDAY afternoon it was arranged that our party 
should attend evening service in the church at Dol- 
wyddelan. They were promised a pleasant ride into a 
region more wild than any they had yet seen, and an 
opportunity to worship in the Welsh language in a queer 
little church which had come down from many past 
generations. 

In two peculiar one-horse vehicles they were drawn 
rapidly up hill, and the beautiful valley of the Conway, 
where nature was subdued by art. They came to a land 
of steep unverdured rocks, where stony crests were piled 
around them to the stature of mountains. Moel Siabod, 
one of the highest of the Welsh mountains, occasionally 
looked down upon through the lesser hills on their right, 
while before them lay the jumble of craggy peaks which 
surrounds Snowdon. 

The active nags draw them swiftly over a smooth road. 
They passed by great slate quarries, huge pits and valleys 
in the hillsides surmounted by derricks, which stood out 
in relief against the sky. 

The ruins of Dolwyddelan Castle stand on a high rock 
overlooking the valley of the little river Lledr, where it 
broadens to a small plain. The church is at the foot of 

77 


78 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


the hill on this plain, and the village of Dolwyddelan, a 
cluster of stone houses, occupied by the workers in the 
slate quarries are near by. Grand and bare mountains 
surround this little hamlet, and the sound of a cracked 
bell summoning them to prayer made the scene as it was 
suddenly spread out before the travelers all the more 
impressive. 

They dismounted and walked to the church. They 
met the meek little rector of the parish on his way to his 
vestry, and fell into conversation with him. He was 
as curious about them as they about him and his parish- 
ioners. The Castle, he told them, was celebrated in 
Welsh history, — the scene of many rude conflicts. It 
dated from the year 500. It had been the last stronghold 
to resist the English conquest. 

And was the church also old, they asked him. 

“ O no,” he said, “ the church was not old. The old 
church stood up on the rock near the castle. That was 
built about the time of the Norman conquest of England. 
But it suffered so badly in the many attacks on the 
castle, that about four hundred and fifty years ago they 
built this new church in the valley.” 

“ Think of it,” said Hill, “here is a new church which 
was built before Columbus was born. It must have 
served as a Romish church nearly one hundred years be- 
fore the Reformation. Four hundred and fifty years ago, 
Joan of Arc was driving the English out of France. 
Think of all that this modern church has survived.” 

They entered through the massive walls and bowed in 
the black oaken pews, among the devout Welsh people. 
Men, women and children, even to the babes in arms, — 


DOLWYDDELAN. 


79 


there must have been all the inhabitants of the village 
there, — they filled the nave and the space before the 
chancel. 

Not one word of the service or of the' sermon did our 
friends understand ; but there was a spirit of worship in 
the sanctuary, and they bowed in obedience. Perhaps 
they comprehended as much of what was read by the 
earnest rector, as did the solemn-eyed people to whom 
the words were familiar. Perhaps they were much more 
devout than if they had listened to the English ritual 
intoned in a magnificent chapel. 

Hill studied the tablets on walls, monuments of Welsh 
heroes, and the patched window over the altar. The 
men who fought in the wars of the Roses had sat in 
those pews, and taken the sacrament at that altar. How 
many generations had listened to the instructions coming 
from that old oaken pulpit, or dropped their copper coins 
in that quaint contribution box ! 

This church was a place of reverie to Lawrence Hill. 
He was loth to break up the pleasant train of thought 
when he wound out of its ancient portal with the crowd 
of Welsh people. He dreaded to hear Cripps* common- 
places and Ketchum’s witticisms ; so he asked Miss 
Ravenhill to walk more slowly, and the others of the 
party reached their vehicles first. 

Hill knew that Miss Ravenhill was a good walker. He 
had proved so much in their few rambles around Bettws. 
He said, “ I intend to walk back to the hotel. If the 
distance is not too great and you are so inclined, I would 
be very glad of your company.” 

The sun was just sinking behind the Castle and casting 


9 


8o 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


long shadows down the valley. The long, soft summer 
evening twilight was coming on. 

Miss Ravenhill answered, “ That would be delightful, 

I do not think that there can be any objection.” 

When they reached the carts, Mr. Ogle and Mr. Cripps 
had gone forward in one, leaving Mrs. Ogle and Mr- 
Ketchum in the other. 

Miss Ravenhill and Mr. Hill announced their intention 
of walking, and so the second cart went on without them. 

In this bleak region these two young people were left 
alone. Beside them the river Lledr often flowed in deep 
chasms, on either side the barren slopes rose to ridges 
sharply defined against the slowly darkening sky. 

It was a time for talking in dreams, for talking of those 
things which one wishes but does not dare to probe for. 

They went on, now commenting on a wildly pictur- 
esque scene, now pointing to a cold mountain-top which 
the hills disclosed to their view, and between these inci- 
dents discoursing on those deep themes which stir man’s 
reverent meditations. 

Of life and death, of that long procession of the gene- 
rations which comes, we know not whence, and goes, we 
know not whither, of duty and of the hoped-for reward 
of right living — of all these things they talked in rational 
tones. Hill overflowed with grand quotations — great 
thoughts of great minds, so well expressed, they serve for 
prayers of earnest souls. And Ellen’s sympathetic voice 
answered him with such simplicity and truth that these 
hearts beat in deep and stirring harmony. 

From lofty speculations upon mysteries they fell into 
the consideration of the minutiae of men’s lives — the con- 


DOLWYDDELAN. 


8l 


ditions of happiness or misery with which each com- 
munity or race surrounds itself — the traits and habits 
which become national characteristics. 

They pictured the fierce natures of the old Welshmen, 
maintaining brave existence amidst a barrenness in which 
civilization would starve, and fighting for the lordships of 
their inhospitable peaks. Lawrence Hill told how the 
Welshmen had possessed the whole of England, about the 
time at which the Castle at Dolwyddelan is said to have 
been built, and how in a contest lasting nearly eight 
hundred years, they had gradually been subdued and 
driven into the mountains until this stronghold alone re- 
mained to them. And this wild, independent race still 
did not mix with the English, as did the successive races 
who came to England, but retained their own language 
and their own traditions. The Welshmen still bore the 
honest sturdy character of their uncompromising fore- 
fathers. 

As an illustration of the handy sense of modern Welsh- 
men, Hill described, as well as he could remember it, the 
method of working the slate quarries by which they were 
passing. Prof. Caines, the political economist, had writ- 
ten a paper on this peculiar system. It is a scheme of 
co-operation especially adapted to poor but self-relying 
men. 

The slate in these wilds lies some distance under the 
surface, and none of the Welshmen have the means to 
make the first great excavations to reach it. They there- 
fore have invited English capitalists to undertake this 
work and own the quarries. But when this work is once 
done, and the slate once laid bare, the Welshmen do not 


82 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


ask the English owners to employ them at so much a day 
in digging out the slate. This would be demanded by 
almost any other laborers in the world, and there would 
follow grumblings and strikes and misunderstandings be- 
tween the laborers and their employers — the laborers 
striving to obtain the most pay for the least exertion, the 
employers contriving how they might obtain the most 
service for the smallest wages. 

But the hard-headed Welshmen rise above these de- 
pendent conditions of laborers. They take responsibility 
and become to a certain extent their own masters. They 
divide themselves into gangs, and each gang contracts to 
work a certain part of the quarry and therefrom to pro- 
duce a certain number of slates. Sometimes the chief 
man of the gang becomes the contractor, and employs 
the others on conditions agreed upon between them. 
Under this system, the Welshmen work not only with 
their hands but with their heads. They economize their 
labor to employ their time to good advantage. The 
laborers earn a greater sum than any capitalist could 
afford to pay them in the form of wages, while the own- 
ers of the quarries obtain their slates at a less cost. 

“ This,” said Hill, “ shows the same admirable Welsh 
character which made the old heroes with unpronounce- 
able names, retire to these solitudes rather than submit to 
the English. Here they were poor, but free, and here in 
spite of nominal conquest, they have maintained to this 
day their real independence of outside influence. These 
quarry-men, I understand, cannot speak any other lan- 
guage but their own, and yet they have learned by their 
own good sense a more valuable lesson in political econo- 


DOLWYDDELAN. 83 

my, than all the labor-reforms and agitators of the world 
have ever devised.” 

Hill had been encouraged to talk on this subject by 
Ellen Ravenhill’s charming interest. She asked occa- 
sional questions, which led him on from point to point, 
until he was fairly embarked on one of his favorite themes. 

“ How do you know so much more about English 
affairs than do I, who am an Englishwoman ? ” she asked. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, “ why do you bring up that out-worn 
distinction ? I also am an Englishman, when I stand 
among Englishmen, I would also be a Frenchman among 
Frenchmen ; an American among Americans. We are 
Welshmen to-night. We have worshipped in the Welsh 
tongue, though we did not understand it, and now we are 
sympathizing with Welsh heroes.” 

“I cannot argue with you,” she said, “but I feel that 
I am still an Englishwoman. Wherever I may be, my 
heart still turns to England.” 

“ I have felt,” he said, “since I have been in England, 
that I too could be an Englishman.” 

“No,” she answered almost tenderly, “you are and 
you must be an American.” 

“ A hard fate at the present moment,” he sighed. 

“To love one's country is a glorious fate,” she said 
proudly. “ It is for this we praise the old Welshmen.” 

Not one word of special affection was spoken by these 
young people. But it cannot be supposed that such 
chords could be sounded without producing echoes of 
mutual esteem in both their hearts. 

The gray twilight was deepening into dark when they 
reached their hotel. Mr. Cripps met them at the door. 


8 4 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ How’s this ! How’s this ! ” in ominous voice he ejac- 
ulated, “you are late ; why did you not say that you 
wished to walk ? I would have walked with you.” 

“Do not be troubled papa,” said Ellen, “we have had 
a very pleasant walk, and are not the least wearied. We 
would like some supper now.” 

“You will find supper waiting for you ; go in, Ellen, 
I wish to speak with Mr. Hill.” 

“ Are you a man of honor, sir ? ” said Mr. Cripps, when 
Miss Ravenhill had disappeared. 

“ I hope so,” answered Hill with some surprise. 

“ Then sir, I desire that your attentions to my step- 
daughter cease from this hour. I do not care how 
wealthy you may be. Yonder friend of yours says that 
you are wealthy. It is not a question of money, sir. She 
has a neat fortune and I am her guardian. But, sir, 
there is a distance between you, a great distance, sir. 
You are an American and she is English. That makes 
an immense distance.” 

To say that Lawrence Hill was astonished at this odd- 
ness would but faintly describe his emotion. He had a 
contempt for Thomas Cripps, and had ignored him alto- 
gether in his intercourse with Miss Ravenhill. To be 
confronted by this vulgar fellow bearing an air of author- 
ity, and uttering coarse reproaches, was so far beyond 
anything which he had ever imagined, that he almost 
stammered. His first impulse was to knock Miss Raven- 
hill’s step-father down, but he controlled himself and 
said : 

“You have said enough, sir, much more than enough.” 

He pushed by Thomas Cripps and went to his room. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


TWO MINDS IN DIFFERENT CHANNELS REACH THE SAME 
CONCLUSION. 



EUBEN KETCHUM had also engaged in an in- 


J_ V. teresting conversation on this pleasant Sunday- 
evening. He also had enjoyed the return from Dolwyd- 
delan. He had been carried swiftly with Mrs. Ogle in 
the little cart. They had talked merrily all the way, and 
he was in the best of humor. He sat in the garden of 
the hotel after their return with Mr. and Mrs. Ogle. 

Mr. Ogle was reticent. He seldom took part in gen- 
eral conversation. He sat by and looked at the various 
persons around him with his dull, gloomy eyes. He was 
not a cheerful person, but after one became used to him 
he could be endured. 

Mr. Ogle said to Ketchum, “ Had any letters from 
America yet ? ” 

Ketchum was not startled by this question. He an- 
swered directly : 

“ No ; not yet. I expect letters in a day or two.” 

“ I hope that you will have good news,” said Mr. Ogle. 

“ I hope so,” said Ketchum quietly. 

“ It would be a pity to break up your vacation, now 
that you are here.” 

“ That’s so,” replied Ketchum. 


85 


86 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ If there is any matter of money which is likely to 
trouble you, I hope, ” said Mr. Ogle,“ if you will excuse my 
speaking of it, that you will feel at liberty to call on me.” 

Ketchuin stared. 

“ Mr. Ogle said : “I do not wish to inquire into your 
affairs, but I said to Mrs. Ogle, Mr. Ketchum is a good 
fellow, a smart fellow, and ought not to break up his va- 
cation now that he has once landed in Europe. If there 
is any little question of money which stands in his way, 
I’ll offer to help him out. I can afford to do it. I’m 
always ready to stand by a countryman of mine, when I 
have the means.” 

Ketchum said, soberly : “ Much obliged to you, Mr. 
Ogle. That is a very kind offer. But. the matter which 
may take me back to America sooner than I expected, 
does not concern me, but a friend of mine. I hope that 
my letters will show that I need not return until the end 
of the summer,” 

“ I was going to say,” continued Mr. Ogle, unable at 
once to abandon his first idea, “ that if this money matter 
stood in your way, if you were proud about accepting 
assistance from a comparative stranger, that I would en- 
gage you as my attorney, and you might earn the money 
you need.” 

“ I assure you,” replied Ketchum, “ that I do not need 
money. I have all that I can possibly require.” 

t% That is very good,” said Mr. Ogle. “ But now as we 
have mentioned the subject, perhaps you would not mind 
earning a little more money. I shall have need of a 
lawyer in London, and would like to engage your services.” 

“ Ah ! Mr. Ogle,” answered Ketchum, pleasantly, “ do 


TWO MINDS REACH THE SAME CONCLUSION. 87 


not tempt me to break up my vacation by undertaking 
new business. I must decline to be retained.” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Ogle, “ we shall see about it when we 
get to London.” 

Ketchum excused himself very soon, and took a long 
walk in the gloomy roads. 

This was the course of his self-examination : 

“ Am I doing the fair thing ? Here I am traveling 
with an unsuspecting man, against whom I am employed, 
and whom I am having carefully watched. I think that 
he is all right. I have a full report of all his movements 
since leaving the ship, and there is nothing in the least 
suspicious found against him. This man has plainly 
taken a fancy to do me^a kindness. In the goodness 
of his heart he offers to lend money to me when he thinks 
I need it. He offers to employ me in some business 
which will doubtless prove profitable to me. If I stay 
with him, he will be forcing his confidence upon me, and 
putting himself in my power. Am I acting strictly ac- 
cording to professional honor ? Ought I not to take one 
of two courses — either to tell him that I am retained 
against him, or to leave his company ? If I continue 
with him, and should then be obliged to prosecute, would 
not he, would not Mrs. Ogle, have good reason to despise 
me ? Plainly, I must cut stick. I wonder what Hill will 
say to the proposal, and whether I shall find it necessary 
to explain my secret to him.” 

Ketchum met a man in a shadow near the hotel, and 
received a paper from him. He gave him a few direc- 
tions, and then went to find Hill. 


88 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Lawrence Hill was in his room, packing his traveling 
bag. Ketchum knocked and entered, and stopped. Hill 
did not look up. He was expending enough energy ram- 
ming a few shirts into a corner to have pulled a strong 
oar. 

“ Ha ! ” said Ketchum, “ an elopement ! ” 

“ Here’s what’s going to London by the first train,” 
said Hill, fiercely. 

“ Any one going with you ? ” 

“ You, if you like.” 

“ Of course I like, my boy. I’ll never desert you. 
Can we wait until morning ? ” 

“ We must,” said Hill; “the next train leaves at six 
o’clock in the morning.” 

“ All right,” said Ketchum. “ Going to say good-by 
to Cripps and the Ogles’ ? ” 

“ No,” said Hill ; “ don’t do that. Leave a note for 
them in the morning. We don’t want to get them all up 
at that hour. We will leave a note. You write it, and 
say that I or we are called away suddenly. Make up 
some decent excuse.” 

“ All right,” replied Ketchum, regarding his friend 
with a quizzical expression, and wondering how all this 
impetuosity had been developed. He was too wise to 
ask questions, too much pleased that his own wish was 
being accomplished, to seek to allay Hill’s wrath. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


HOW LAWRENCE HILL PASSED HIS LAST NIGHT IN WALES. 



OTWITHSTANDING Lawrence Hill’s vaunted 


i. ^1 sympathy with all classes and conditions of men, 
he was not able to understand or excuse Thomas Cripps. 
His outraged blood surged in intermittent floods all 
night. He did not try to sleep. He could not bear the 
confinement of his own room, but after all the house be- 
came quiet, he went out and wandered for hours by the 
light of the stars, now sitting on rocks, by the streams 
murmuring in the darkness, now walking rapidly in the 
shadows of the woods. There are fairies in these Welsh 
glens, and they danced around him mockingly. They 
dropped dew upon his beard, and switched wet leaves in 
his face. They irritated him by whispering in his ear 
wild Welsh words. 

Surely this is strange behavior of our calm philospher ! 
Surely our self-centered political economist has met a new 
problem of life ! 

Thomas Cripps slept soundly. He was troubled by no 
unusual feelings. He was not conscious of the storm 
which he had raised in Lawrence Hill’s soul. He had 
good reasons for not wishing Ellen Ravenhill to marry 
anyone at present. He had simply taken the most direct 
means to prevent such an undesirable event. He had 


89 


90 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


spoken to Hill plainly, but without feeling. He had not 
intended to make him angry. He had acted as in any 
of his ordinary transactions, as in a game of cards, for 
example. He had simply played the cards which he held 
coolly to win the stakes. He had no thought of the 
chagrin of his opponent at losing. 

Hill came back to the hotel in the early twilight. He 
was ashamed of himself. What would his friends in New 
England say, if they knew of these eccentric meanderings 
by starlight ? He went to his room, took a bath and 
carefully made his toilet. He then waited calmly listening 
at his window, to the sounds of the awakening world. 
Was not Ellen Ravenhill dreaming peacefully, weaving 
noble fancies about a hero, who did not come to her out of 
ancient history, who was not Welshman nor Englishman, 
but who wore a brown beard, and looked at her with mag- 
nificent, intelligent eyes, and filled her with earnest 
felicity ? 

At five o’clock Hill called Ketchum. At half past five 
they had breakfast — a wretched breakfast of cold bread 
and meat and tea. They punish people in England for 
early rising, by sickening them with tea. The budding 
desire to meet the sun upon the upland lawn, is destroyed 
by the thought of the tea-urn steaming in the breakfast- 
room. The Englishman is forced to turn over for another 
nap, until the placid cook shall have been pleased to make 
the coffee. 

At six o’clock they took the train, leaving Bettws-y- 
Coed behind them. Perhaps it was the mawkish tea, but 
both men felt quite moody and forlorn. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THOMAS CRIPPS DRAWS A CARD FROM HIS SLEEVE. 

T HE remainder of our little party were sustained by 
excellent coffee, when at a seasonable hour, at 
the breakfast table, they were called upon to read the 
following note from Ketchum : 

To our Friends : 

“Circumstances over which we have no control, in other 
words, business of great importance, demands our presence in the 
metropolis, and has forced us to tear ourselves away from the lovely 
Betsey Coit thus unceremoniously. We shall meet again in Heaven, 
I mean in London, which is all the same to Mr. Cripps, where, if the 
fog will permit, we may see each other. Our plans we trust will be 
definitely settled upon soon, and we hope that we may look forward 
to renewing the pleasant associations begun on the Arcadia. Mr. 
Hill joins me in leaving kind regards, and best wishes for your happy 
progress' in learning the beautiful Welsh language, and in journeying 
by easy stages towards the English Jerusalem. Mr. Hill sends a 
message to Miss Ravenhill which my unsentimental pen refuses to set 
down.” 

“ Have they really gone ?” asked Mrs. Ogle with un- 
feigned regret. 

“ Went by the morning train,” answered Cripps with 
composure. 

“ I’m sorry for that, I like Ketchum. He’s a smart 
fellow,” said Mrs. Ogle. 

Mr. Cripps did not give his opinion of either of the 
young men, but he seemed perfectly resigned to the separa- 
tion, and not to desire to renew their acquaintance. 

Miss Ravenhill also said nothing, but she hoped that 

9i 


92 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


some special message had been left for her. And when 
the morning passed away and she heard nothing more, 
the Welsh landscapes began to lose their charm, and even 
her cajm joy at being on English soil, became strangely 
changed. She wished to go on. Her desires became 
fixed on London. 

Miss Ravenhill had never been impatient in her life. 
Mr. Cripps was so accustomed to her uncomplaining ac- 
ceptance of every new circumstance which he, as practi 
cal manager of affairs, brought in her way, that he had no 
apprehension of unquietness on account of Lawrence 
Hill’s departure. He did not think that Ellen would 
even speak of the matter to him. 

He was therefore surprised on the following day, when 
she came to him, as if she had sought him, and asked him 
seriously : 

“ Papa, do you know why Mr. Hill went away so sud- 
denly, without taking leave ? " 

Mr. Cripps as an accomplished gamester was accus- 
tomed to estimate chances. As an accomplished game- 
ster also, Mr. Cripps confined kimself to an estimate of 
the chances, and made no account of such absurd con- 
siderations as the moral character of his actions. When, 
therefore, this unexpected question was asked by his 
step-daughter, Mr. Cripps imperturbably made an es- 
timate. He put down the chances of their ever seeing 
Lawrence Hill again as small, the chances of Hill and 
Ellen ever coming to an explanation still smaller. He saw 
that by telling a deliberate lie, he could render this con- 
tingency almost impossible. So with his matter of fact 
manner unchanged, he answered : 


THOMAS CRIPPS DRAWS A CARD. 


93 


“ Mayhap I could tell if I chose.” 

“ Tell me,” she said, “ was it for words had with you 
Sunday night ? ” 

“ Do you agree not to speak of it to the Americans ?” 

“ O yes, why should I talk of it to them ? ” 

“ Then it was for words had with me. He owes me a 
sum of money, and I thought best to ask him for it, and 
he found running away more agreeable than making 
payment.” 

“ Mr. Hill owes you money ! ” she exclaimed, “ how 
did he make the debt ? ” 

“It is not worth mentioning,” he answered, “it was a 
little matter of fifty pounds won of him at poker — his own 
game. Ah ! the rascally Americans are sharp at winning 
our money, but they are not cheerful at paying. But I 
can do without the fifty pounds well enough, and I would 
not harm the man with his countrymen. He need not 
have put out so fast, but since he has gone he’ll have 
none to wish him returned.” 

“ I did not know that Mr. Hill played cards,” she said, 
as if reasoning with herself, “ I’ve heard him say that he 
would not play cards with strangers.” 

“ Ah ! these American fellows are the very devil at 
speaking the truth. You might have seen him in the 
smoke-room on the steamer, if you had so pleased, deal- 
ing cards like wizard, and winning our sovereigns too 
like a trickster. He is a smooth-spoken fellow enough, 
and I have no wish to injure him. We’ll not see him 
again, I promise you.” 

Ellen Ravenhill pondered all these things in her heart. 
If she had been a reasoning being, she would have formed 


94 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


the absolute logical conclusion from the evidence before 
her, that he was unworthy of her thoughts. Being how- 
ever, a creature of gentle instincts controlled by deep 
but deliberate emotions, she felt that Lawrence Hill’s 
voice and eye and manner, were sufficient answers to these 
slanders. She did not attempt to reconcile her step- 
father’s story with her own inclinations. She felt that 
there was a misunderstanding somewhere, and she looked 
forward with strong faith to a benevolent future. 


CHAPTER XX. 


ON THE NORTHWESTERN RAILWAY. 

T HE journey of Hill and Ketchum to London was 
uneventful. They had a smoking compartment to 
themselves nearly the whole way. Hill smoked inces- 
santly and was disinclined to conversation. Ketchum 
essayed to interest him in his lively comments upon Eng- 
lish manners and customs, but in a great measure without 
success. 

“ It is a nuisance,” he said at length, “ being shut in a 
crib like this. This is the way we treat cattle in America. 
I want to walk through the cars and stretch my legs, and 
talk to the people.” 

“ You would probably like to make a few more acquain- 
tances among common place folks, who happen to be go- 
ing in the same direction with you.” 

“ Of course I would ; that’s all the fun in traveling.” 

“ I hope that you will not introduce me to any more of 
your miscellaneous friends.” 

“ This is black ingratitude ; ” said Ketchum, “ think 
what good has already come to you through my sociable 
qualities. Without me, that lovely English girl, the wis- 
dom of Ogle, the humor of Cripps, would be unknown to 
you.” 

“ I wish that I had never wasted my time with them. 
Cripps and Ogle are very vulgar, uninteresting men.” 

95 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


96 


“ Granted ; but Mrs. Ogle is bright and pretty, and the 
fair Ellen can interest the most fastidious living American 
for almost one week.” 

“ Miss Ravenhill,” said Hill seriously, “ whom you at 
first said was ‘ only a big, healthy English girl,’ is above 
all praise.” 

Sometime afterwards, as in answer to an absurdity per- 
petrated by Ketchum upon English ways, Hill said: 

“ Do you know, I have a mind to turn Englishman, to 
settle my affairs in America and come here to live per- 
manently.” 

“ Hail Columbia ! ” exclaimed Ketchum. 

“ There is a refinement here which is agreeably in con- 
trast to the crudeness of American life. A gentleman is 
treated with a respect here which he does not receive in 
America. You feel constantly that you are surrounded 
by a strong, orderly system, which will protect you not 
only from wrong, but also from annoyance. The life of 
a cultivated man here must be worth living.” 

“My dear fellow, you do not mean this,” answered 
Ketchum, really in earnest. “ You could not be con- 
tented here. There are a thousand ties, which you do 
not think of now, to draw you back to your own country. 
The mere foppish life of a dilettante would not satisfy 
you. I know you better than you know yourself. You 
are fit for the best work, and your proper work-shop is 
the United States. What you and I see here we must 
mark, and inwardly digest. We must take back good 
ideas to America, and make them American. 

“ I regard you,” he went on, slipping into his jocular 


ON THE NORTHWESTERN RAILWAY. ' 97 

tone, “ as a big chrysalis, a big, hopeful chrysalis, and 
your rolling round in this English mud makes you grow 
bigger. You are a promising chrysalis, but you can only 
burst into a butterfly on Yankee soil. You would stay a 
grub until doomsday .here.” 

Hill was grave. It was when Ketchum spoke earnestly 
that Hill really liked him. He said : 

“ I wish I thought that you were right. I wish I were 
sure that laboring for America would not be time 
wasted.” 

“ A man to succeed in anything must have no doubts, 
my dear fellow. Don’t be anxious. Your time will come. 
You will find some big idea taking possession of you. 
You will feel success in your bones. And before you 
realize it, you will have done some work which will make 
all Americans proud to call you countryman.” 

Hill looked at his companion intently. Ellen Raven- 
hill’s expression of feeling had been a parallel to Ketch- 
urn’s friendly thoughts. 

Ketchum’s earnestness had warmed him. He wiped 
his forehead, and said : 

“ Phew ! I feel as if I had been making a stump- 
speech.” 

“ You are a marvelously good fellow,” said Hill ; 
“ and if I don’t do good work after such encouragement, 
I shall be indeed a worthless dog.” 


CHAPTER XXI. 


LONDON AND DISCONTENT. 

K ETCHUM and Hill took lodgings in London. 

The former received letters on his arrival in the 
city, which gave him further information about Mr. Ogle’s 
affairs. The letters told him that Mr. Ogle, being presi- 
dent of an important bank in Chicago, had left the country 
for England, owing considerable debts to various persons 
and corporations. These debts had nearly all been con- 
tracted shortly before his leaving Chicago, and his credi- 
tors were unable to discover what use he had made of 
the borrowed funds. Mr. Ketchum was empowered to 
act for the creditors, and if he satisfied himself that Mr. 
Ogle had taken this money with him, and did not intend 
to return, he was instructed to attach these funds, or so 
much of them as he could find, to pay the debts. 

This story was not as bad as Ketchum had expected 
to hear. His opinion on reading it was that some foolish 
and overcautious person had started an absurd report 
against a worthy man, when his back was turned. He 
was provoked that he had been employed on business 
which he thought trivial. He wrote to America, telling 
what he had already done, saying that he would keep a 
watch upon Ogle until told to discontinue it, but that as 
he had seen nothing suspicious, he was inclined to think 
Mr. Ogle an honorable man, who would return and face 
98 


LONDON AND DISCONTENT. 


99 


his creditors in good time. Still the fact that Mr. Ogle 
expected to transact business of importance in London 
remained prominent before him, and he would not be 
fully satisfied until he learned by legitimate means the 
nature of that business. 

Hill and Ketchum gave their time to seeing the sights 
of London. Neither of them mentioned making plans 
for leaving the city at any certain day, and continuing 
their travels. Each expected the other to make such a 
proposal, and each was secretly contriving how he might 
postpone the matter. 

Neither Hill nor Ketchum were enjoying their occupa- 
tion. They loitered in their lodgings. They went into 
the streets aimlessly. They did the sights mechanically. 
They even became tired of each other. Hill felt relieved 
when Ketchum did not care to go with him. Ketchum’s 
peculiar humor flickered and went out in Hill’s presence. 

Hill could not understand himself. Here he was on 
historic ground. The names of the streets were familiar 
to him as household words. He should have been keenly 
interested in identifying the spots which literature and 
history have celebrated. He had looked forward to 
London to give him those sensations most delightful to 
the well-read man, of calling up the thoughts of great 
men in the scenes which gave them birth. But now he 
cared for none of these things. He merely glanced at 
Temple-Bar. The courts of the Temple did not tempt 
him to leave Fleet' Street. He cared not for Great Rus- 
sell Street. The British Museum was no more to him 
than an idle show to gain the wonder of boys. The 
Tower of London seemed to him a senseless panorama. 


100 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Hill had a pocket fall of letters, which would have 
opened to him some of the clubs and pleasant society in 
London. He did not present one of them. The pleasure 
of meeting bright men in this centre of the world’s bright- 
ness — a pleasure which he had counted on — he would not 
now lift a finger to attain. 

He seemed a stranger to himself. He was morbid and 
unhappy. He brooded over Cripps’ insult to him. He 
asked himself repeatedly whether he should ever see 
Ellen Ravenhill again. He never went into the street 
without this thought in his mind. He had quickened 
his steps, time without number, to see more closely a 
woman who bore some fancied resemblance to her. He 
had retraced his steps to look at such women a second 
time. 

All this time he constantly said to himself that Ellen 
Ravenhill could never be anything more than a pleasant 
dream to him. He would never undergo another en- 
counter with Cripps. Besides, what did he know of Miss 
Ravenhill’s family and connections ? Anything more than 
the present chance acquaintance between them was im- 
possible, but he wished most intently to see her only once 
more, to hear her sweet voice only once again. 

Ketchum knew when the party, on whom both their 
minds were secretly fixed, came to town, but Hill did 
not. Ketchum knew the name of the quiet little court 
at the West End, and the exact number of that court in 
which they lodged. He could have gladdened their eyes 
any morning, and pleased himself, by exhibiting his old 
hat in that aristocratic neighborhood. But he thought 
it best not to seek them, and on the other hand he would 


LONDON AND DISCONTENT. 


IOI 


not avoid them. He sauntered in Hyde Park and in 
Piccadilly. In all probability he would then come upon 
them by chance. He had a whole fund of ingenious 
questions which he wished to propound to Thomas 
Cripps, and he felt that if he could be cheered by Mrs. 
Ogle’s smiles, he could become a most entertaining 
showman of the complaisant British lion. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


SACRILEGE. 

O NE afternoon, Hill wound aimlessly about the 
Houses of Parliament. He could not fix his at- 
tention on paintings. The historical scenes in which he 
should have taken a keen interest were but mere hazy 
conceptions to him. He moved uneasily from place to 
place, burdened with a sense of his own unfitness for the 
pleasures he had promised himself — the long-sought 
pleasures which were now waiting only to be enjoyed. 

He walked in the streets and finally found his way into 
the North Transept of Westminster Abbey. This spot, 
of all others, to which he would have hastened on his 
arrival in London, he had not visited before. His eye 
did not take in the magnificent architecture, nor rest on 
any of the beautiful monuments. He cared nothing for 
Chatham or Palmerston or Canning, whose tombs were 
near him. Among the few people resting on the plain 
benches, he saw a pink ribbon and a blue feather, and a 
coil of fair hair. A young woman was sitting alone in 
graceful contemplation. Surely only one woman in the 
world could express in attitude such serene sweetness. 
He stepped forward to catch a sight of her face. He 
had so often been led into hope by fancied resemblances, 
that he hardly hoped now. But what strange forces are 
102 


SACRILEGE. 


103 


at work within him ! Surely his heart stood still for 
a second, and grew as cold as the marble statues at his 
side. Then the warm blood rushed through his veins, 
and he said with the composure of one whose tone is not 
used to being controlled by feelings : 

“ Miss Ravenhill.” 

There could be no doubt of her gladness at the sound 
of his voice. She rose and gave him her hand, and for 
one instant seemed to feast her eyes upon him, as in slow 
tender modulations of pleasure and surprise she said : 

“ Mr. Hill.” 

There are said to be orators, who, by the use of one 
word, can bring tears to the eyes of their listeners. 
These two words in Ellen Ravenhill’s musical tones were 
rejoicing eloquence to Lawrence Hill. 

Then they asked each other common-place questions. 
When did she leave Wales ? How did she like London ? 

She informed him that she had come to the Abbey 
with Mr. Cripps and the Ogles ; but that she was tired, 
and as she had been there so many times before, they 
left her to rest, while they made the tour of the Chapels. 

She did not ask him why he had left them at Bettws, 
she did not care to know. 

She said that she was fully rested, and would show him 
the Poet’s Corner if he pleased. They moved across the 
choir to the South Transept. 

And now Lawrence Hill’s memory came back to him. 
He talked like an angel. The monuments around him 
became transfigured. It was as if he were in company of 
the mighty dead themselves. He seemed to move in an 
intoxicating nimbus, whether in the body or out of the 


104 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


body he could hardly tell. And she responded with such 
delicate, happy words, that she seemed also one of the 
immortals. 

Was this the religious influence of the sanctuary ? 

They moved out of a side door and slowly around the 
chapter-house, discoursing like the blest souls in Para- 
dise. They passed out into the alleys of the shaded 
cloisters. Such inspiring influences of holy meditations ! 
Undisturbed by any other foot-falls than their own, they 
might talk of abstract bliss. And so no doubt they did. 

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are tender, and he — 
is there the slightest quaver in his voice ? No curious 
loungers see them now. Shades of the old monks rise up 
to defend these ancient walks of passionless contempla- 
tion ! 

As they step side by side, the back of her ungloved hand 
touched his and fires, like a train of powder, his blood. 
In one great explosion the training of a circumspect so- 
ciety is shattered into bits, and Lawrence Hill holds 
Ellen Ravenhill in his arms and kisses her lips. 

Oh ! Oh ! 

Are those tears in her eyes ? 

We are heartily ashamed of him of course, and as the 
two black robed boys of Westminster school come chat- 
tering along the corridor, and laugh and wink at each 
other, we are inclined to agree with them that these two 
young people have behaved ridiculously. 

The presence of the Westminster boys was sufficient to 
partially bring back the conventional senses of Lawrence 
Hill. He was silent. Ellen Ravenhill had been too 
much surprised by his sudden action to find words of ex- 


SACRILEGE. 


105 


pression. She also continued silent. They walked on 
side by side, his looks bent upo'n the pavement ; she oc- 
casionally glanced at him. Their steps were still slow. 
They came to a door leading into the street and went 
out. 

She thought that his meditative manner might attract 
the attention of passers-by. She wished to bring him 
back to himself. She said, taking from her pocket a 
Bank of England note : 

*‘I wish to lend you a few pounds.” 

He looked at her in astonishment. 

“ Lend money to me, Miss Ravenhill ! I owe you now 
a debt which I can never pay. Why do you wish to in- 
crease my obligations ? ” 

“ I wish you to pay Mr. Cripps,” she said simply. 

“ Pay Mr. Cripps ! I do not understand ? 

“ Do you not owe Mr. Cripps fifty pounds, a little debt 
made at cards ? No matter of any consequence,” she 
said, as she saw the perplexity increasing on his face, 
“ but — but I thought I would like you to pay it.” 

“ You wish to lend me fifty pounds, that I may pay a 
debt to Mr. Cripps ? A debt made by me at cards ? ” he 
asked slowly, gazing at her intently, “ I think that I am 
not myself but some other man. I have acted to-day in 
a manner so unaccountable, that I can hardly deny any 
unnamable villianies of which you may be pleased to ac- 
cuse me. But I have never played at cards with Mr. 
Cripps, or in any way come into his debt.” 

“ O, I ought not to have spoken of it, I ought not to 
have spoken of it. Please forget that I spoke of it,” she 
said, the conviction of her step-father’s falsehood coming 


10 6 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

full upon her, and quickly following it the shame which 
she felt that one so closely related to her should be so 
base. 

He said, a suspicion of the real facts coming to him 
slowly : “ I beg that you will answer me one question. 
Did Mr. Cripps tell you that I owed him fifty pounds ? ” 

“O, I cannot answer, I cannot answer.” 

She looked frankly into his face and he was satisfied. 

“I must go back,” she said, “they will look for me 
and will miss me. Do not come with me, I know my 
way perfectly.” 

“But — Miss Ravenhill — when — where shall I see you 
again ? ” 

“ Oh ! I cannot tell you. I cannot ask you to our 
lodgings. What must you think of us ! What must you 
think of me ! ” 

Her face grew crimson. 

“ I only think of you as a celestial being, without 
whose presence the sights of this earth are worthless.” 

She smiled sweetly and said : 

“We go to-morrow afternoon to the Royal Academy, 
I think that Mr. Cripps will not go with us.” 

He watched her as she went slowly into the great 
church, and then he turned and walked towards the mon- 
ument in Trafalgar Square. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE TRIUMPH OF REASON. 

L AWRENCE HILL learned that night that he was 
not a reasonable being. He convinced himself by 
the most conclusive processes of thought, that it was the 
proper course for him to pack his traps and start for 
Paris at once. 

“ Bien etre ” he said to himself, “ is the only thing worth 
considering. The right sort of a man, which I profess to 
be, should be influenced only by that which makes his 
surrounding circumstances conduce to his comfort. I 
wish to avoid all vexations, entanglements, all contact 
with unpleasant people. If I stay in London I shall be 
influenced by a fascination for the society of Miss Ellen 
Ravenhill, which I cannot explain, and which I do not 
seem able to overcome. My conduct in the company of 
that young lady amazes me at the same time that it fills 
me with a delicious satisfaction. I am possessed by a 
mysterious power, which is likely to lead me into greater 
extravagances. I cannot marry her, I know nothing of 
her family or belongings. Her stepfather, her only rela- 
tive whom I have seen or heard of, is a vulgar liar. Her 
other relations, if she has any, are probably equally dis- 
gusting. I might be glad to marry her in spite of this, 
but she would never marry me. Cripps told the truth on 
that point. She has said the same to me repeatedly when 
she has insisted upon the distinction between Englishmen 

107 


io8 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


and Americans. She would smile like a beautiful being^ 
and assure me in a voice which Beatrice might have used 
to Dante, that it would be impossible. Clearly then, it is 
both wisdom and duty which tells me to go to Paris, to go 
anywhere, rather than stay in a city where I have lost my 
self-respect, and in proximity to a person who has over 
me the influence of a siren. I must shake off this sweet 
destroying power. If I have any manhood left I must set 
my teeth and run away. 

“ And yet how superb she is ? How magnificently 
womanly did she act towards me to-day. When I outrage- 
ously took advantage of her confidence, how dignified and 
yet how kindly she bore it ! She knew that one word of 
reproach would have driven me mad with shame. Her 
eloquent silence subdued me. And then she would have 
crowned her goodness by lending me money ! What an 
idiotic villain is that man Cripps ! And how consider- 
ately she suppressed her indignation, and refused to ac- 
cuse him, when she learned that he had so foully deceived 
her ! O, she is an incomparable jewel, and I would tear 
out this American heart of mine, if I could replace it with 
an English heart, with which hers could beat in unison. 

“ I feel that I am a wretch, a despicable wretch ! All 
the discipline of my life loosens and falls away at the 
thought of her. My road of honor and manliness is open 
to Paris, and yet I cower here in misery. 

“ Bah ! A woman’s voice ! A woman’s grace ! The 
spells which bind common men ! I will go to Paris.” 

But the fitful energy died away. He paused with his 
open portmanteau before him, with a folded coat in his 
hand, he sat down to think it over, and he didn’t go. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


CABLE CORRESPONDENCE. 

W HILE Lawrence Hill was deciding to go at once 
to Paris, and was so pusillanimously sitting with 
idle hands at the beginning of his preparation for the 
journey, Reuben Ketchum was engaged in studying a 
number of telegrams which he had that day received from 
America. 

It is strange how foolish men seem when judged by 
these telegraphic messages. No man does himself justice 
in a telegram — unless It be those favored mortals whose 
words have free passage over the electric wires. The 
common man studies economy, counts his words, and con- 
sequently at the best gives only the bold and bare conclu- 
sion. The steps of his reasoning and the surrounding 
circumstances must be guessed by the puzzled recipient. 

Reuben Ketchum was of the opinion that some of his 
business acquaintance in America, whom he had formerly 
regarded as wise and cautious, had unaccountably lost 
their heads since his departure. It seemed to him that 
they were worrying him with messages and breaking up 
his vacation without sufficient cause. He thought that 
they were employing him on an unpleasant and unprofita- 
ble pursuit of an honest man. 

He received, “ has Thomas Cripps had dealings with 

Ogle?” 


IIO 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


He replied “ Cripps travels with Ogle.” 

He had this answer, “ watch both wait letters.” 

Could anything be more perplexing ? He had received 
a minute account of Mr. Ogle’s movements since he had 
been in England. He had the means of knowing of 
every action of the unsuspicious financier. Mr. Ogle had 
conducted himself like a gentleman of leisure and good 
conscience. Of course Thomas Cripps had been with 
him. That was the most natural thing in the world. 
Cripps and Ogle had been friends in America. They 
crossed the ocean on the same steamer. Anyone could 
have learned as much as this , without consuming the 
valuable time of the Transatlantic Cable Company in 
asking the question. 

Ketchum wished to rejoin the Ogles and to travel with 
them. He could not do so while he was obliged to keep 
up this secret observation. He thought this observation 
foolish. He had written his opinion to his correspondents 
in America, and he hoped and expected soon to receive 
word that Ogle’s affairs were properly explained, and that 
the pursuit of him might be discontinued. 

Instead of being relieved of his disagreeable task he 
was annoyed by having his work doubled. He debated 
telegraphing to America giving up all connection with the 
case. 

With this question still undecided, the following morn- 
ing he received the report from his special detective and 
afterwards met Hill at breakfast. Among other unim- 
portant information Ketchum had learned, that the Ogles 
proposed on that day visiting the Royal Academy. When 
therefore, Hill proposed the same resort for their after- 


CABLE CORRESPONDENCE. 


Ill 


noon, he was ready to take advantage of the unexpected 
coincidence, and at once agreed to go. 

They took lunch at the Pall Mall restaurant. Both 
were unaccountably in gay humor. 

Hill was really amused at Ketchum’s chaff with the old 
waiter. 

Ketchum’s preliminary demand for ice-water, was made 
known by this eminently respectable attendant in an un- 
usually loud voice, to all the occupants of the little tables 
around them, and seemed to send a shiver into the 
stomachs of the well-fed Englishmen. 

*' Have you any American oysters ? ” asked Ketchum, 
while the somewhat supercilious waiter stood at his 
shoulder. 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Any buffalo steaks ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Any sweet potatoes ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Any green corn ? ” 

“ Beg pardon, sir.” 

“ Any green corn ? Any succotash ? ” 

“ No, sir, do not cook the dishes here, sir.” 

“ See here,” he said to Hill, “ you order a lunch, if you 
can find anything here which a white man can eat. I 
have no doubt you will be safe if you say a hunk of beef 
and a pot of mustard.” 

“ What will you have to drink ? ” asked the waiter. 

*■ Can you get up a decent catawba cobbler ? ” asked 
Ketchum. 

“ We have no American bar, sir.” 


1 12 


ALMOST AN. ENGLISHMAN. 


“ Very well, then give me a whiskey cocktail. Mind 
you make it of good bourbon or rye, none of your Scotch 
or Irish poison.” 

“ But we have no American bar.” 

“Well then, give us two glasses of lager bier.” 

The dignified waiter was patient, but he had the air of 
a persecuted man. 

“ W e do not furnish foreign drinks, sir.” 

“ I guess, you must keep Vermont cider. Give us some 
good Vermont cider.” 

“We have none, sir.” 

“ You’ll have to order the drinks too, Hill, I give itup.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE INTERPRETATION OF THREE PICTURES. 

H ILL and Ketchum found the court of Burlington 
House quite full of carriages. There were many 
people passing in. The English people love shows of 
pictures and pay well for their enjoyment. The Royal 
Academy is entirely supported — the expenses all paid — 
by the admission fees to these annual exhibitions. This 
cannot be accomplished in America. The people who pay 
their shillings at the door of Burlington House, are of all 
classes. You can tell them as you pass along with them. 
They are the same people whom you will find visiting the 
Indian Niggers at the Royal Aquarium, or gazing at the 
fireworks at the Crystal Palace. Here are the working- 
man and his family, the clerk and his young woman, and 
also the ladies and gentlemen who may wear titles, and 
perhaps came in carriages. 

What is it that these people find in these galleries, 
which is worth a shilling to them ? 

In the intelligent city of New York, where there is a 
large population of people who earn their shillings worth 
much easier than do the London people, an Academy has 
never been able to excite popular and paying attendance 
upon its exhibitions. Why does the ordinary Englishman 
treat his Academy so much better ? 

113 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


1 14 

“ Because he has a more refined taste,” said Hill. 

“More refined grandmother!” said Ketchum, “I'll 
match the average American against the world for taste. 
Look at our girls, see how much better they make them- 
selves look than these foreigners. I’ll bet I can tell the 
reason these Englishmen come to see pictures, whose 
subjects interest them. Most of these paintings are of 
scenes or stories which are familiar to them. They are 
touched by sentiment and pleased at the allusion. Our 
American artists are above painting any thing familiar to 
their public. They work away on subjects of which their 
fellow- Americans know nothing and for which consequent- 
ly they care nothing.” 

“ Ha ! Ha ! You are an incorrigible patriot,” laughed 
Hill, as they came into the vestibule, and looked this way 
and that, undecided where to begin their examination. 

Both men were just then more desirous of seeing the 
people there than of paying close attention to the paint- 
ings. 

“ Let us walk through the gallery first,” said Hill, “ I 
like to know the arrangement of the rooms, before I look 
at the pictures.” 

So they sauntered along, their minds intent upon the 
plan of the gallery and their eyes ready to recognize a 
familiar face. 

As they were passing into the sculpture gallery, Ketchum 
stopped his companion and said “ for a comparison of 
English and American taste, look there.” 

There was the trim figure of Mrs. Ogle, neatly dressed 
in sober but fashionable black, and by her side the larger 
form of Ellen Ravenhill, certainly not by contrast so har- 


INTERPRETATION OF THREE PICTURES. 1 1 5 

moniously attired, but graceful as the statues around 
her. 

“ The English people can afford to rest their case on 
that comparison,” answered Hill.” 

The young men advanced and greeted the ladies, and 
the surprise of at least three of these four, at this acciden- 
tal meeting was well acted. 

Mrs. Ogle was very glad to see Ketchum, she said : 

“ What a hard man to find you are ! Mr. Cripps has 
been looking for you everywhere. Mr. Ogle wanted to 
see you, and Mr. Cripps promised to find you. This is a 
lucky meeting. You must come this evening and dine 
with us, and Mr. Hill must come too. Miss Ravenhill 
and I are here quite alone. Mr. Ogle and Mr. Cripps had 
business together in the city this afternoon.” 

The last intelligence was ominous, Cripps and Ogle then 
had business to transact with each other ! Ketchum 
might yet have business with both of them. 

Ketchum was more glad than he was willing to own, to 
have a talk with Mrs. Ogle. She was sprightly and she 
plainly liked to hear him talk. It was the most natural 
thing in the world that they should fall back a little while 
Ellen Ravenhill and Lawrence Hill went forward together. 

“It is a pity you left us abruptly in Wales,” she said, 
“ it was really cruel in you, we’ve been lonesome. Mr. 
Cripps has grown more stupid than ever with his English 
boasting, and Ellen seems to be thinking of something all 
the time, so that she is no company at all. Mr. Ogle, you 
know is always quiet.” 

“ I have the worst of it,” replied Ketchum, “ my friend 


II 6 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

Hill is no better than a bad sort of Englishman, he has 
such a senseless admiration for everything in this coun- 
try. He is a glorious fellow, but he is trying at times.” 

“ Have you arranged those mysterious plans of yours 
yet ? Do you know whether you are to have a vacation 
or not ? ” 

“ I’m sorry to say that they are yet undecided. I can- 
not look forward, I am obliged to seize each moment as it 
flies, and make the most of it.” 

Lawrence Hill experienced another peculiar paralysis 
of his faculties, when he found himself by the side of Ellen 
Ravenhill in the crowd, and moving through the galleries. 
He had nothing to say. But she was perfectly pleased 
with silent companionship. They went from picture to 
picture without comment. 

There was a large painting hung on the line in the 
third gallery, — its title “The World Forgetting.” It repre- 
sented a scene in Kensington Gardens on a Sunday in the 
year 1780. The fashionable gossips sitting around, the 
beaux and belles walking and meeting soldiers in new 
uniforms, who may be destined for the war in America, 
Dr. Johnson, or someone very like him, discoursing to his 
friends in the background. But the interest of the pic- 
ture is centered on a fair young woman who leans on the 
arm of a tall officer, looks into his face and lays her head 
tenderly on his shoulder, the curious, envious world 
around her forgetting. 

Hill stood before this painting, and Ellen with him. 

He said, “that is a singular subject.” 

And she replied, “yes.” 


INTERPRETATION OF THREE PICTURES. 1 1 7 

He said, “ do you take the most interest in the faces of 
the figures or in the study of the costumes ? ” 

She said, “ I like the girl’s face, she seems trustful.” 

He said, “ I like the man’s face, he seems worthy to be 
trusted.” 

He said, “ if this is a historical painting and you should 
know the descendants of these young persons, would you 
think any the less of them on account of this little incident 
in their history ? ” 

“ Certainly not.” 

“ Perhaps he is American and she an English girl ? 
Perhaps he is about to join the army in America, the sup- 
position is not impossible, there were fine-looking Ameri- 
cans in those times, would that not make you change your 
opinion of them ? ” 

“ Oh ! no.” 

“ And why should a hundred years or so make any dif- 
ference in your opinion ?” 

“ I do not think that it would.” 

“ Will you take my arm, Miss Ravenhill, in token that 
you have forgiven me that I felt and acted as this young 
girl is acting in Kensington Gardens, one hundred years 
ago?” 

“ I do not fear to take your arm,” she said. 

“ The world forgetting ? ” 

“ The world remembering,” she answered firmly. 

They moved on paying little attention to the crowd, not 
being altogether absorbed in the pictures. 

They passed on from picture to picture conversing in 
low tones, their gentler thoughts stirred by the sentiments 
which English painters love to tell on canvas. 


Il8 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

“I am in love with English life,” he said, “ the sordid 
hurrying race for riches in which American people jostle 
each other cannot be seen here. The people seem to find 
the good of life in quiet homes, and in genial and refined 
companionship.” 

“Be not so sure,” she said, “that all Englishmen are 
contented with gentle and refined pleasures, or that no 
Englishman loves money better than happiness.” 

“You wish to see me disenchanted,” he said, “you 
who have taught me the charms of England. You wish 
to teach me that there is an impossible abyss between 
you and me, that this chasm of nationality in your imag- 
ination cannot be bridged.” 

“ Indeed, such was not my meaning. But I have been 
thinking for a few days past, that you may be pretty right 
that there may be stronger ties than those which bind one 
to one’s country.” 

“ Thank you for that,” he said, “ that is a ray of light.” 

They came opposite another large painting. A tall, 
broad shouldered youth wrapped in his overcoat, with 
cap and portmanteau looks down upon a fair and graceful 
girl whose hands he clasps in his. It might be a farewell 
between simple friends, but for a certain greater meaning 
in her face. 

Lawrence Hill led his companion close to this picture. 
They had not consulted the catalogue. 

“ That face,” he said, “ seems to me worth all the gallery 
of paintings. It’s a masterpiece.” 

They looked a moment in silence and he continued 
slowly. 

“ I know but one face in all the world which could for 


INTERPRETATION OF THREE PICTURES. 1 19 


me wear that expression. Miss Ravenhill if you could 
look on me as that sweet English girl looks at that happy 
man ” 

“ And why not ? ” she answered quickly, “ what does 
she say, that I might not ? ” 

He pointed to the title in the catalogue. 

“ If you could say that word,” 

She looked up in his down-turned face and pressed his 
arm. 

“ I would take off my overcoat and stay in Eng- 
land.” 

“ Yes,” answered she. 

J. R. Millais, Royal Academician though he be, might 
rend his much praised canvas in despair, that he could 
not portray the full felicity of her enrapturing voice. 

Amongst the crowd they moved along, the sense that 
this sympathetic companionship might endure, soothing 
their thoughts like a delicious reverie. 

He said, “ now I may be permitted to become an 
Englishman.” 

She shook her head. “ O no,” she said, “ but perhaps 
you may let me become an American.” 

“ Will you indeed consent ? ” 

She pointed him to three beautifully painted scenes in 
the life of Ruth. 

“See,” she said, “ Ruth is one of the loveliest women that 
have lived. Would you wish me to use her words ? ” 

“ ‘ Whither thou goest I will go,’ ” he said, and she 
answered, 

“‘Thy people shall be my people.’ ” 

“So let it be,” he replied, feeling as one who is borne 


120 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


up, whose feet scarce touch the earth. “ This is the 
crowning day of my life." 

After a time Ketchum and Mrs. Ogle interrupted this 
happy pair. These acquaintances seemed like strangers 
to them, odious, commonplace strangers. 

But it was time that they should go home. 

As they moved towards the door of exit, he said : 

“ I must see you again as soon as possible, I must 
tell you of myself, you know nothing of my history or 
my circumstances." 

“And you," she answered, “know nothing of me or 
my life." 

“ I am satisfied to know nothing more than that you 
are the sweetest woman living.” 

“ Can you come to dinner ? " she asked. 

“O," he said, “would you have me meet your step- 
father ? " 

“No, not yet,” she replied firmly. “We go to the 
South Kensington Museum to-morrow, can you find 
time to go there ? ” 

“ Can I find time ? I could go there now and wait 
until it pleased you to come." 


CHAPTER XXVI. 
a woman’s sympathy. 

A S Mrs. Ogle looked with a woman’s eyes, she saw 
the suppressed happiness in Ellen Ravenhill’s 
face. Most women consider themselves physicians of 
the heart, and whenever a case in which that important 
member is metaphorically affected comes in their way, 
they proceed with scientific coolness to investigation and 
diagnosis. They ask the most direct and unpleasant 
questions, from a stern sense of duty, and observe the 
sufferings which their inquisitions develop with the phil- 
anthropic cruelty of one making a vivisection. 

Mrs. Ogle had this feminine philosophic spirit, which 
ignorant people may call mere curiosity ; and Mrs. Ogle 
said when the gentlemen had left them, and they were 
rattling in a hansom cab towards their lodging-house : 

“ Why, my dear, you look quite flushed. Mr. Hill 
must have said something very pleasant.” 

Ellen’s cheeks mantled with a deeper red, as if to show 
the experimenter how much a full blooded organization 
was capable of in the way of blushing. 

“ I declare, you are as red as fire. I do believe the 
man has been making love to you ? ” 

“ Has he, my dear ? ” continued the pretty tormenter. 
“ Now do confide in me. You need a woman to advise 
you — a woman to sympathize with you. I think that 
Mr. Hill is just lovely.” 


I 2 1 


122 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Ellen’s glove gave Mrs. Ogle’s glove a great squeeze, 
but the light in her eyes and her high color were her 
only answer. 

“ I thought so, my dear ; I was sure of it. When did 
it begin ? I knew that he was caught that day on the 
steamer when he wrote those verses for you. I had a 
presentiment that something would come of it. It is not 
a flirtation, is it my dear ? ” very seriously, then cheer- 
fully, “ No, it cannot be a flirtation. He doesn’t act a 
bit like a flirt. I think it down-right lovely earnest, and 
he is perfectly splendid. I’m so glad for you, my dear, and 
you must tell me all about it next time that we are alone.” 

As Ellen didn’t answer, but only continued to look happy, 
Mrs. Ogle was obliged to keep the subject alive herself, 

“ I know more about these things than you do, my 
dear, and I was sure from the first that it would come 
to something, and I’m delighted.” Then very gravely, 
“ Does Mr. Cripps know ? ” 

Ellen shook her head. 

“ Will he make a fuss ? ” 

“ May be,” answered Ellen, without a shade of de- 
spondency. 

“ I can manage him for you. I can tell you how to 
manage him. Are you of age ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ellen. 

“ And has he any control over you by law — and prop- 
erty control, or anything of that sort ?” 

“ No,” said Ellen. 

“ How nice ! You can do just as you please, only it 
would be better to have everybody satisfied. But I 
guess that we can manage Cripps between us.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


DID LAWRENCE HILL PLAY POKER ? 

I N the interval which elapsed between the arrival of 
the ladies at their lodging-house and the announce- 
ment of dinner, Mr. Cripps had a little talk with Ellen. 

Mr. Cripps was accustomed to having his own way. 
He had always made his plans, and carried them out 
without opposition. Ellen was always contented. Her 
docility was not so much submission to the will of her 
step-father as a certain amiability — a satisfaction with 
the varying circumstances of her placid life. Mr. Cripps 
having found her always compliant with his wishes, 
counted now without question on her acquiescence. 

He said, “ Ellen, we leave the Ogle’s to-morrow, and 
go to Lancashire. You will want to see the old home ? 

She answered, “ No ; I am not prepared to go to Lan- 
cashire. I will stay here. If you have business, you can 
leave me with Mrs. Ogle.” 

“ But you had better go with me, Ellen. I may be 
absent a month. Ogle will leave London soon. He said 
to-day that he should be off for the continent during the 
next fortnight.” 

“ I can manage. I do not wish to go now.” 

“ Ellen, this is unusual. I wish you to go with me.” 

“ And I do not wish to go, sir.” 

“Really, really, this is most surprising. You make i* 

123 


124 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


very awkward for me. I have business in Lancashire ; 
some rents overdue, you know ; sure to be lost, if not 
looked after. I cannot go and leave you here, among 
strangers. Besides I told Ogle this day that you and I 
would go to Lancashire. Confounded awkward position, 
you know." 

But she was not to be reasoned with. She took from 
her purse a bank-note, and held it towards him. 

“ Mr. Cripps, will you accept the fifty pounds due you 
from Mr. Hill, the debt made by him to you at cards ? ” 

His eyes bulged out, and the network of vermillion 
veins became plainer on his puffy cheeks, but Thomas 
Cripps was too old a gamester to be made to take part 
in a melodrama. 

“ He said, “ So you have seen this fellow Hill again, 
have you, and have listened to his lies ? He is a devilish 
smooth and dangerous fellow, but I thought my little 
Ellen had seen too much of the world to be fooled by a 
cunning Yankee. Did he give you that fifty pound note 
to pay me, because he feared to face me himself ? ” 

Mr. Cripps took the note, as if it rightfully belonged 
to him. He had the unemotional air of an honest man 
of business receiving his own. 

Miss Ravenhill, with the calmness of a statue, answered : 

“ No, sir." 

“ Perhaps,” said Mr. Cripps, pausing, with the note half 
folded in his hand, “ he did not give you this note at all.’’ 

“ He did not, sir.” 

“ Oh ! ho ! he is a shrewd villain ! So he persuaded 
you to take fifty pounds of your spending money to pay 
his debt ? ” 


DID LAWRENCE HILL PLAY POKER. 1 25 

“ He denied ever playing cards with you. He denied 
owing you a penny, and I believe him.” 

“ You silly child ! ” answered the complaisant Cripps. 
You deserve to lose your money, but you know I cannot 
take my pay from you. I’ll say no more about the debt, 
to please you, and you shall take back your fifty pounds.” 

“ But, sir, if you played cards with Mr. Hill, there were 
surely witnesses.” 

“ No, no witnesses. The artful scoundrel knows there 
were no witnesses. It was at night in his bedroom, when 
everyone had gone to bed. We drank brandy and water> 
and played poker. He thought he knew the game better 
than I, the rascal.” 

“ But when he played at cards on the steamer, in the 
smoke-room, there were witnesses ? ” 

“Yes, yes ; to be sure ! There were witnesses. Every- 
body saw him playing there— that is everybody who went 
in the smoke-room, you know.” 

Dinner was announced. 

During the dinner Ellen said : 

“ Mr. Ogle, did you go in the smoke-room on our 
steamer, and see the gentlemen playing cards ? ” 

“ I took a look at them once or twice. But I couldn’t 
stand the air of the room. It upset me.” 

“ Did you see Mr. Hill playing there ? ” she asked, 
steadily. 

“ No, no ; can’t say that I did. I don’t remember 
seeing him there. 

The friendly Mrs. Ogle spoke : 

“ I’m sure Mr. Hill did not play cards there. Mr. 
Ketchum laughed about Mr. Hill, and said that he was 


4 


126 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


‘stuck up,’ and wouldn’t be seen playing cards in the 
smoking-room.” 

“ These Americans stand by each other like Irishmen,” 
said Mr. Cripps, in apparently unruffled composure. 

But Mr. Cripps knew that he held a very weak hand, 
and was likely to be beaten at his little game, but still he 
played on with unchanged countenance. 

When he had opportunity to speak again with Ellen 
alone, he said : 

“ Will you not then go with me to Lancashire on the 
morrow ? ” 

“ No, sir,” she answered, calmly ; “ I wish to remain 
in London.” 

“ Ah ! ” he said, resignedly ; then I will remain here 
also.” 

“ As you please,” she answered. 

“ But can you not fix a day to go with me to Lanca- 
shire ? I have no reason for wishing to stay longer with 
these people. I have accomplished all my purpose in 
traveling with the Ogles, finished all my business with 
the sly old rogue, and I do not wish to see them again. 

It is awkward, you know, being made to stay with them. 

I despise all these Americans. They are low, sharp fel- ' 
lows. Deuced unpleasant associates. Only bearable for 
purposes of business. Let us leave them, and find better 
company.” 

“ But I am just beginning to like the Americans,” said 
Ellen. 

“ Devilish strange behavior,” said Cripps, as she turned 
away from him. “ Deuced awkward for me.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


NEWS FROM THE DETECTIVES. 

A FTER leaving the ladies with Hill at Burlington 
House, Mr. Reuben Ketchum called at Scotland 
Yard. He was puzzled by the news that there awaited 
him. 

Mr. Hannibal Ogle had that day paid to one Thomas 
Cripps, the pleasant sum of fifty thousand pounds. 

How had this sum been paid ? 

In Bank of England notes, which the detective had seen 
Mr. Ogle obtain by the sale of United States bonds, and 
then pass over to Mr. Cripps, taking some form of writing 
in return, and Mr. Cripps had immediately deposited the 
same notes with a well-known banker in the city. 

Here was food for thought. Here was matter for tele- 
grams. Ketchum would be less than human, if he could 
not out of this information, by anxious economy in the 
use of the Atlantic cable, construct a misunderstanding, 
which would shake the confidence of several sincere peo- 
ple in each other permanently. 

He telegraphed. — 

*• Ogle paid Cripps to-day, fifty thousand pounds.” 

He received, — 

“ Don’t understand. You mean Cripps paid Ogle.” 
First entanglement. 

Ketchum thinks his American correspondents idiots. 
They think Ketchum stupidly careless. Both parties have 

127 


128 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


\ 


also a suspicion that there is something radically wrong 
with the ocean cable. 

Ketchum replied, — 

“ No. Ogle paid Cripps.” 

He received, — 

“ Don’t understand the transaction. Where is the 
money ? ” 

He answered, — 

“ In bank.” 

He received, — 

“ Can you attach it ? ” 

He replied, — 

“ Not without reason. I know none.” 

By this time both were in a state of wild vexation. 
They longed for the free use of the telegraph cable for 
fifteen minutes, that they might call each other the vigor- 
ous and uncomplimentary names which they were wast- 
ing inexpensively in the air three thousand miles apart. 

The American correspondents at length seemed roused 
to an utter recklessness of cost, and Ketchum received 
this message. 

“ These are the facts. Among assets of Ogle’s bank, 
are notes of Thomas Cripps to amount of $500,000, due 
in one year, secured by collaterals almost worthless. 
Proceeds of notes were paid to Cripps, and converted by 
him into U. S. bonds. We suspect conspiracy. Could 
understand Cripps dividing with Ogle. Can you explain ? 
Can you attach funds ? ” 

“ Why didn’t they say so at first,” Ketchum muttered 
to himself. “ Do not see it myself, but here is something 
to work upon.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


KETCHUM AND HILL EXCHANGE SECRETS 

T HIS interesting telegraphic correspondence extended 
over twelve hours, and Ketchum had the last men- 
tioned message before him for consideration at his break- 
fast on the following morning. 

He wished for some one to help him guess. He deter- 
mined to ask Hill’s advice. He passed the telegram 
across the table to his companion, who had been absently- 
sipping his coffee and neglecting the open newspaper be- 
fore him. 

“ See,” he said, “the business which is wrecking my 
vacation.” 

Hill read. 

“ Nice people, truly ! ” he said. 

“ Yesterday,” said Ketchum, “ while we were with the 
unsuspecting ladies at that picture gallery, Ogle paid 
Cripps fifty thousand pounds.” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

“ I have a detective in my pay, who has watched every 
step Ogle has taken in England. Yesterday I engaged 
another detective to shadow Cripps. They reported the 
payment.” 

“ Then I have been introduced by you to a society of 

suspected bank robbers, and have been encouraged to 

129 


130 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


make them my personal friends ! ” said Hill, making the 
horrible thought impressive. 

Ketchum was amused at this active survival of personal 
dignity, and he answered : 

“No fear of you, my boy, I would not hesitate to intro- 
duce you to counterfeiters or even murderers, I think that 
you would be safe even amidst their fascinations.” 

“ It would be pleasant indeed, to have one or two of 
one’s party arrested for running away from America with 
stolen money. It would sound well among my friends at 
home, wouldn’t it ? And I also have a first-class detec- 
tive for my intimate friend and traveling companion, have 
I ? This is cheerful news.” 

“ I’m the original Vidocq,” said Ketchum, “ but, 
seriously, I left the company of Ogle, as soon as I found 
that I was likely to personally play detective upon him. 
That is a work which even my unsentimental soul is not 
up to.” 

“ Glad of that,” said Hill. 

“And I’ve known where they have been in London the 
week past, and have not looked them up.” 

“That looks well,” said Hill, somewhat reassured, “but 
you don’t watch the whole party, not each one ? If you 
had a man to follow Miss Ravenhill, I I 

“ You would like to be that man ? eh ! ” 

“ No, no, but it would be abominable.” 

“Well, for your comfort, you may know, that out of 
special regard for your feelings, and ako because it would 
be time wasted, I have decided not to watch Miss Raven- 
hill.” 

“ Ketchum,” said Hill, “ I believe that Cripps is an 


KETCHUM AND HILL EXCHANGE SECRETS. 131 

atrocious villain. He has lied most foully against me to 
his step-daughter. He is a low, scoundrelly liar, and it 
will go hard, but I will tell him so to his face.” 

“ Very likely,” replied the unmoved lawyer, “but what 
did Ogle pay that fifty thousand pounds for ? That is the 
question before this convention.” 

“ Ketchum,” said Hill seriously, “ You have told me 
your secret, I’ll now tell you mine. Ellen Ravenhill will 
be my wife.” 

“ Great Caesar’s ghost ! Jerusalem crickets ! ” exclaimed 
Ketchum, pulling his chin beard in undisguised astonish- 
ment. “ You don’t say so ! I knew you were struck, but 

not that bad. Can’t you can’t you get a new trial — or 

a change of venue — -or an appeal, or something ? ” 

Hill laughed. “ No, the prisoner has pleaded guilty 
and been sentenced.” 

“ Better let me look into the case,” said Ketchum. 
“ A writ of error ? How does that strike your fancy ? I 
may not be too late.” 

“ You don’t congratulate me, then.” 

“ O yes, congratulate you of course. But I feel some- 
how I had got you into a scrape, and was sort of respon- 
sible for the well, I don’t know that you expect me to 

call it exactly a misfortune.” 

“ Misfortune ! ” said Hill, smiling, “ no, no, my dear 
fellow, I acquit you of all blame. Ellen Ravenhill is a 
queen among women. You do not know her, you always 
overlooked her. But I have no hesitation in confessing, 
that I love her, and will be proud to take her to my home 
as my wife.” 

To consider anyone worthy to be taken to his home, 



132 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


and to be presented to his friends was the greatest praise 
which Lawrence Hill could give. 

“ Well ! well ! this is a stunner to me. But what will 
you do with Cripps ? He’ll be an inconvenient piece of 
furniture for you to take home, I guess.” 

“ Cripps ! ” answered Hill, “ my dear fellow, you’ll do 
me an inestimable service if you’ll lock him up in state- 
prison somewhere. Wouldn’t it be strictly legal for you to 
put him in a bag • some night, pretty soon, and have him 
reported missing ?” 

“ Perhaps we can dispose of him. If I could only see 
a little daylight in this telegram, I might know what to do.” 

“ Let us try it again.” said Hill. 

“ Perhaps Miss Ravenhill might explain this transac- 
tion ? ” said Ketchum. 

“ I wouldn’t ask her to give evidence against her step- 
father, not for a kingdom,” answered Hill. 

“ What a nuisance these little questions of honor are ! ” 
said Ketchum. 

“ I am to meet Miss Ravenhill at the South Kensington 
Museum this morning, it is very probable that the others 
may be there. If you will go, some explanation of the 
puzzle may be developed.” 

Ketchum agreed to go with him. 

“ I don’t see,” said Ketchum, “how you propose to 
manage this marrying business with old Cripps.” 

“ I shall have nothing to do with him.” 

“ But he is her guardian I understand.” 

“ Never mind, I shall not speak to him under any cir- 
cumstances if I can help it.” 


KETCHUM AND HILL EXCHANGE SECRETS. 1 33 


“ Just now you declared your intention to give him your 
disinterested opinion of him to his face.” 

“ If ever he comes in my way, I shall probably do him 
bodily injury.” 

“ Go slow ; go slow, my dear fellow. Don’t be rash 
with Cripps. He is a cool hand. Do you remember what 
I told you of his manner of playing cards on the steamer ? 
I was no match for him. It is not safe to despise a man 
who plays well at cards. You must control your righteous 
wrath, or he will have you at a disadvantage. Do you 
know whether or not Miss Ravenhill is of age ?” 

“ No,” said Hill. 

“ Perhaps Cripps has her legally entirely under his 
control. These English people sometimes have, the most 
atrocious notions of the rights of a guardian. Do you 
know whether Miss Ravenhill has any property in her 
own right ? ” 

“ No,” said Hill ; “ I neither know nor care about her 
property. I want only her. I’ll marry her, and defy 
Cripps.” 

“ Not so fast ; not so fast. You’ll find yourself in a 
box before you know it. Suppose Cripps should cause 
your arrest on the charge of conspiring to abduct an 
infant heiress ? How would that look in the news- 
papers ? ” 

“ He surely would not have the assurance to do that !” 
exclaimed Hill. 

“ Yes, he would,” replied Ketchum. “ His matter of 
fact coolness is equal to any action which will serve his 
purpose. See how he has managed in this bank business* 
I have no doubt that he is the principle villain, and that 


134 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


he has drawn Ogle into a disgraceful transaction, of 
which he makes the profit. We cannot see his trail in 
the grass yet, but you may be pretty sure that it is he 
who has been playing the devil in our little Eden.” 

“ What ought I to do then ? ” said Hill, now 
thoroughly alarmed. 

“ Be careful not to tread on the tail of the snake, be- 
fore you have him by the throat.” 

“ Drop your figures,” said Hill, earnestly, “ and tell 
me distinctly what I ought to do.” 

“You must avoid any outbreak with Cripps. You 
must learn from Miss Ravenhill all the particulars of 
Cripps control over her and her property. Then, as 
women seldom state legal facts correctly, you must learn 
from her the name of some solicitor, or other person of 
experience, who is able to corroborate her statements, 
and must consult him. After you know your ground, 
you can act understanding^. It is no fool of a job to 
marry a well hedged English girl, and it may be that you 
will find it next to impossible.” 

“ You are a cheerful adviser,” said Hill ; “ I must be 
obsequious to Cripps ? ” 

“ You need not fall down and worship him, but you 
would do well to avoid him at present.” 

“ And I must talk of business matters with Ellen ? ” 

“Yes; instead of rhapsodies and moonshine, practice 
the practical. You will need to walk on solid ground 
some day. Try it for a little while now.” 

“ The thought is immensely disgusting.” 

“No matter. Take the medicine which is suited to 
your case without making faces. If you will have an 


KETCHUM AND HILL EXCHANGE SECRETS. 1 35 

English wife, you must proceed a little according to 
English methods. I would like immensely to see you 
repeat the Roman’s trick on the Sabines, and shoulder 
your young woman and march off, with the whole British 
nation howling at your heels. But as a lawyer, you know ? 
I could hardly advise such a breach of the peace.” 

“ Lawyers are the most disagreeable of the human 
species,” said Hill. 

“ And while you are about it,” continued Ketchum 
“ don’t forget the property question. It may cut quite 
a figure. These high-minded English talk sneeringly o f 
the sharpness and greediness of the Yankees, but they 
are the veriest Shylocks when they come to questions 
of pounds, shillings and pence. They will hear the jing- 
ling of sovereigns when they are deaf to all other sounds- 
Their best blood even is for sale, and you could marry 
into one of their proudest families if you could pay the 
price of admittance.” 

“ You are fast making yourself intolerable,” said Hill. 
“You are Mephistopheles unmasked, deriding his victim.” 

“ Also,” pursued Ketchum, “ I would advise you to 
make friends with Mrs. Ogle. She is a quick-witted 
woman, and undoubtedly knows more of the relation 
between Cripps and Miss Ravenhill than either you or I. 
She will take a woman’s interest in your affair, and will 
do more to help you than a regiment of men.” 

“ I have no patience with such scheming,” answered 
Hill. 

“ Give me permission then to talk to Mrs. Ogle about 
you, will you ? ” asked Ketchum. 

“ You may do whatever you like,” replied Hill. 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


136 

Ketchum’s thoughts after the breakfast, when Hill had 
left him, were somewhat as follows : 

“ This is an infernally pleasant way to spend a vaca- 
tion. Here I am up to my ears in a mysterious case of 
embezzlement, and now I am engaged to help a particular 
friend, and a mighty fine fellow, into an exceedingly 
doubtful matrimonial scrape. Why does Hill want to 
marry that English girl ? And why should I help him ? 
Ten to one she is not half as good as she looks, and if 
he marries her as he wishes, out of hand, he will spend 
his life in regretting it. I’ll talk to Mrs. Ogle about her, 
and I will hold him back until I can look up her record, 
and see whether she is fit to be his wife. But for the 
purpose of amusement and recreation, I might better go 
back to the treadmill of the Cayuga courts.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE MUSEUM AT SOUTH KENSINGTON. 

It rained. It sometimes rains in London, and the 
liberty-loving English people have agreed to let it rain. 
In that proud air, in which no slave can draw breath, the 
rain displays its most capricious freedom. It falls on the 
just and on the unjust, in all seasons, and at most unex- 
pected hours. 

Mr. Thomas Cripps stood in the porch at the entrance 
to the South Kensington Museum, watching the rain. 
For himself Mr. Cripps admitted that he did not go in 
for museums. He thought them very well in their way, 
for those who went in for that sort of thing, and he was 
prepared to maintain, when you came to speak of mu- 
seums, that in that line, as in every other worth men- 
tioning, the English people beat the world. But of all 
the museums which he had ever seen, the South Kensing- 
ton Museum interested him the least. So, having accom- 
panied Mr. and Mrs. Ogle and Miss Ravenhill to the 
door of the South Kensington Museum, Mr. Cripps stood 
in the porch and swung his umbrella, and watched the 
rain. 

Perhaps when Mr. Cripps saw that the rain beat im- 
partially upon all who passed before him, and spattered 
mud upon the boots of the just and the unjust alike, he 

137 


138 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


took courage. Perhaps Mr. Cripps saw in this an omen 
that his virtuous little schemes might continue to prosper. 

A hansom cab stopped at the gate, and out of its un- 
folding front came Lawrence Hill and Reuben Ketchum. 
The latter stopped to do his part in that eternal conflict 
concerning miles and shillings which is waged between 
the British cab driver and the outside barbarians, and 
the former came on swiftly, with umbrella bent against 
the driving storm, towards the door of the museum. 

It is barely possible that if Lawrence Hill had pre- 
pared himself for a meeting with Thomas Cripps, he 
might have schooled himself for a show of civility. But 
looking up suddenly, and seeing that impassive gentle- 
man standing before him, he followed his impulse. He 
turned his back, lowered his umbrella, and shook the 
water from it, then returned, stared through Mr. Cripps, 
as though he had been a form of thin air, and entered 
the building. 

Ketchum coming after him was also surprised, and 
followed his impulse. He said : 

“ Why, how are you, Cripps ? ’’ 

“ Nicely,” said Mr. Cripps, still swinging his umbrella, 
and not offering to shake hands with him. 

“ Fine day to make an Englishman patriotic, isn’t it, 
Cripps ? " 

“ How so, sir ? How so ? ” 

“ O, on such a day as this an Englishman becomes 
more attached to his native soil,” said Ketchum. 

“ Eh ? ” said Cripps. 

“ Or his native soil becomes more attached to him.” 

“ Quite so ; quite so,” responded Cripps. 


THE MUSEUM AT SOUTH KENSINGTON. 1 39 

“ Did you speak to Cripps?” said Ketchum to Hill 
when he overtook him, marching somewhat majestically 
among the big casts of the architectural court. 

“ No,” said Hill ; “ I did not notice him.” 

“ Well, he is plainly playing watch-dog, and you had 
better hurry on. Ask your important question before he 
can come to interrupt you,” 

Miss Ravenhill was found amidst the valuable cases in 
the South Court. Mrs. Ogle smilingly drew her husband 
away as soon as Hill made his appearance. 

Ellen gave him her hand, which he held an embarass- 
ingly long time, considering that there were strangers 
near them, and then she took his arm, and they walked 
slowly to the fernery, and then sauntered in the long 
quiet corridors, where amidst quaint old furniture and 
famous tapestries and marvellous potter}', they talked in 
the most appreciative manner, sojely of themselves. 

Lawrence Hill told her of his comfortable home in 
New England, of his life-long friends and associations, 
and how happy he would be when he could conduct her 
there as his wife. 

And she smiled with steady eyes, and answered him 
with unagitated sweetness. 

Then she told him of her own life, without his asking. 

She was the daughter of a brave officer in Her Maj- 
esty’s Navy, who had been lost at sea while she was a 
little child. She was an only child. Her mother had 
married Thomas Cripps when she, Ellen, was twelve 
years old. Thomas Cripps was in business in Manchester 
when he was married. But after her mother died, now 
five years ago, Mr. Cripps had given up business, and 


140 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


soon after had broken up their home, and had taken her 
and her old waiting-maid from place to place with him 
as occupation or inclination led him. At last they went 
to America to look after investments there, Mr. Cripps 
said, and lived in Chicago nearly one year. 

“ O, how homesick I became ! ” said Ellen, tenderly ; 
“ and how I fairly hated the Americans. I lost my maid 
in Chicago. She married an old fellow servant, who had 
gone some years before, and grown quite rich in America. 
And when she left me I was very lonely. Mrs. Ogle, you 
know, was very kind to me. Mr. Cripps had many trans- 
actions with Mr. Ogle, in which he used to say my for- 
tune was involved, and he paid great attention to both 
Mr. and Mrs. Ogle, and at last he persuaded them to 
come to Europe with us. But now he wants to leave 
them, as he says that Mr. Ogle cannot serve him any 
more.” 

“ You cannot know how odious Mr. Cripps has all at 
once become to me, since I have learned of his falsehood 
about you. He never deceived me before, and although 
I never really loved him, you know, as I would my own 
father, still he was always kind to me, and I respected 
him, and was grateful. I shall not stay with him any 
more. I am of age, you know. I became of age while 
I was in America. And I mean to go back to my old 
home in Lancashire, and find some of my mother’s 
friends. I have no relatives, you know, at least no near 
relatives in England. My father’s brother is in Australia, 
and my mother’s sister died in India, and I have some 
cousins there whom I have never seen. Isn’t it dreadful 
not to have any near relatives ? 


THE MUSEUM AT SOUTH KENSINGTON. 141 

Hill was enchanted by the frank simplicity with which 
her story was told. He was not able to mourn the ab- 
sence of relatives very sincerely. But he comforted her 
by assuring her that he had relatives enough in America 
for two, and he would share them with her. He assured 
her in glowing words that it was not best for her to go to 
Lancashire to look up friends, but urged her to be mar- 
ried to him at once, and give him the right to offer her 
a home. 

But Ellen shook her head at this pleasant proposal. 

“ O, no,” she said ; “ you should have more time to 
think of me. It may be that you will change your mind.” 

To this Lawrence Hill demurred as stoutly as possible. 

“ But to be married before one has had time to realize 
that one is engaged ! Most girls are engaged months 
before they are married.” 

“ Yes ; but my dear Ellen — ” 

Here they were interrupted by a shadow across their 
path. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


MR. CRIPPS SPEAKS TO A POLICEMAN. 

M R. CRIPPS, having contemplated the rain to his 
own satisfaction, strolled into the museum, and 
having leisurely examined the reproduction of Trajan’s 
column, and the outline of the dome St. Peter’s pro- 
jected upon the elevation of the Great Pyramid, passed 
on to an inspection of the painted snuff boxes of the 
courtiers of the second Charles. He paused a moment 
before the cast of Michel Angelo’s Moses, and appa- 
rently also gave his attention to the famous Florentine 
singing gallery. And then perhaps he saw down one of 
the long corridors two familiar living forms. He said a 
few words to the soldierly policeman keeping guard over 
the fernery, and if you looked closely you might have 
observed a coin bearing Her Majesty’s image, and re- 
sembling a half crown, pass from Mr. Cripps’ hand into 
the hand of this servant of the Queen. Mr. Cripps was 
probably desirous of rendering unto Caesar the things 
which appeared to be Caesar’s. He probably wished to 
express, by a slight testimonial, his appreciation of the 
incorruptible virtue of the guardians of Her Majesty’s 
peace. 

At all events, while Mr. Cripps sauntered up stairs, 
and gave his practical mind to the study of paintings, 
the policeman turned his steps in the opposite direction, 
142 


MR. CRIPPS SPEAKS TO A POLICEMAN. 143 

and very soon allowed his shadow to fall across the way 
in which Lawrence Hill and Miss Ravenhill were dis- 
coursing so pleasantly. 

It is excessively irritating to have one’s steps dogged, 
especially is it annoying to be burdened with the pres- 
ence of a public servant when one is engaged with a 
lovely woman in delightful talk, which should not in- 
terest the public. This young man and woman quickened 
their steps, but the policeman kept pace with them. They 
turned and went back, but still the solemn military figure 
was at their side. 

“ Why do you follow us in this manner ? ” said Hill. 

“ No offence, sir,” replied the policeman, touching his 
hat. “ Strolling not allowed in the cloisters.” 

“ Let us go,” said Ellen, loosening her hand from Hill’s 
arm. “ Let us rejoin our friends.” 

The mortification of being thus warned, as if they were 
disturbers of the peace, was sufficient to prevent any 
more tender interviews in public places. They found 
Mr. and Mrs. Ogle, and Ketchum, and Ellen kept close 
to Mrs. Ogle the remainder of their stay in the museum. 
Hill was allowed to walk by her side, and to discourse on 
the beauty of the objects of art which passed under their 
notice. He proved himself able to entertain the whole 
party, giving to all they saw the charm of historical asso- 
ciation. And Ellen did not love him the less because 
their interview had been so unpleasantly interrupted. 

Hill and Ketchum both accepted invitations from Mrs. 
Ogle to dine that evening. 

Mr. Cripps had not troubled them with his company 
during the day. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE WISDOM OF THOMAS CRIPPS. 

M R. CRIPPS took occasion to speak to Ellen before 
dinner. He said : 

“ Ellen, you know that you are of age and that I have 
no legal control over you as your guardian ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” she replied. 

“ You can marry anyone you fancy — a tattooed Indian 
or a tricky Yankee — no man has the right to forbid you.” 
“Yes, sir,” she answered again. 

“ You can give your fortune to whom it pleases you, — 
to the first cunning fellow who has the chance to make 
love to you.” 

Although she felt the taunt she still replied : 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ But it will disappoint me greatly if you thus throw 
yourself and your nice little inheritance away. I have 
taken good care of you and your property, and if you 
have any regard for your mother who placed me in charge 
over you, yes, by George, any gratitude to me for the time 
and trouble I have taken for you, you ought to ask my 
advice before you engage yourself to a worthless foreigner.” 
Ellen spoke sweetly, looking kindly at Mr. Cripps, 

“ Papa, you have been very good to me, and I am 
grateful, but I love Mr. Hill.” 

144 


THE WISDOM OF THOMAS CRIPPS. 


145 


“ And you mean to marry him ? ” 

“Yes,” she said simply. 

“ He is a rascally adventurer,” exclaimed Cripps. 

“ O no, he is not, indeed he is anything but that. He 
is a refined, well-educated gentleman.” 

“ He is a base born, ill-bred Yankee.” 

“ He is of as good English blood as my own. His 
family happened to go to America two hundred years 
ago. That is the only difference. He told me so him- 
self.” 

“ A pretty story, forsooth. He told you so ! ” 

“Yes and I believe him.” 

“ I am out of patience as you see,” said Mr. Cripps, 
controlling himself wisely, “ but as I have told you, you 
are your own mistress. You can marry him or any 
other shrewd rascal if you like, but I hope that you will in 
one regard remember your English training, and will be 
married, if you are fully bent upon it, in respectable Eng- 
lish fashion.” 

“ To that,” said Ellen calmly, “ I am sure Mr. Hill 
will not object.” 

“You should be married from the house of some friend 
of your family. You should make suitable preparation. 
As you have no kindred near, you should have the assist- 
ance of your country-women and should be married in the 
parish church from which your mother was buried.” 

“Nothing could be more according to my wishes,” 
answered Ellen in low voice. 

“ You see I am still your kind father, although you dis- 
regard my will, some day you may wish that you had 
listened more carefully to my words.” 


146 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Ellen wept silently, 

“ I will procure an invitation from my old friend Byrch- 
field Hope of St. Helen’s. You shall go with me to Lan- 
cashire, and shall visit at his house. Mrs. Hope was your 
mother’s friend. She will counsel you as one of her 
daughters. This American shall visit you there, if he 
chooses, and after a time if you do not change your mind 
you shall go to church with him in decent fashion, as be- 
comes an Englishwoman.” 

Ellen rose and came to his side and stroked his gray 
hair, and kissed his forehead. She had not kissed him 
before in years. 

* “ There, there,” said he, in his matter of fact tone, “ I 
knew you would be my sensible little Ellen. I will write to 
Hope at once, and post my letter before dinner.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


KETCHUM FORMS A RESOLUTION. 

H ILL told Ketchum as much of Ellen’s story as was 
necessary to convey to the legal mind a knowl- 
edge of the conditions which limited her actions. 

“ She is remarkably free,” said that eminent counsellor, 
“and you can be married whenever your two sweet wills 
please. But you would do well to give yourself time, to 
meditate such an important step. How about property ? 

“Not a word on that suject if you love me. She spoke 
of it only indefinitely, and I asked no questions. I want 
her, not her property.” 

“ You are a singular fellow ! Did she give you the 
name of her or her guardian’s solicitor ? ” 

“Of course she did not,” said Hill, “but one thing she 
mentioned, which you will perhaps think worth knowing, 
that Cripps was anxious to leave Ogle as he had finished 
his business with him, and also, that in Cripps’ transactions 
with Ogle her fortune was involved.” 

“Oh ! oh ! so she admits having a fortune, does she ?” 
said Ketchum meditatively, “ and Cripps has got all he 
wants out of Ogle, has he ? The plot thickens, I guess I 
will take a hand in the game myself. I feel like a whipped 
dog in company with Ogle, because I am unable to avoid 
playing spy. Several times to-day he seemed desirous of 

i47 


148 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

talking to me of his affairs, and I was forced to avoid 
him. He is uneasy in mind. He is not a hardened villain 
and I pity him. I must see him before this dinner if pos- 
sible. Let us go early.” 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


A HOMESICK MAN AND HIS SYMPATHIZING COUNTRYMAN. 

M R. OGLE was uneasy in mind. He paced his 
room. The dark shadows under his eyes had 
grown darker. His mechanical step was less vigorous, 
and more labored than common. He was plainly, deeply 
absorbed in unpleasant thoughts. 

Mr. Ogle had taken little pleasure in his journey thus 
far. The wretchedness of an unsteady stomach on the 
ocean had been succeeded by the wretchedness of lack of 
accustomed occupation on the land. He found no enjoy- 
ment in traveling. Traveling had always been for him 
merely a disagreeable means of attaining the ends of busi- 
ness. The seeing of sights for the mere purpose of spend- 
ing on them idle wonder, was for him like indulging in a 
childish game. He longed for some practical matter on 
which to occupy his mind. 

But as Mr. Ogle was a silent man he bore all this with 
melancholy fortitude. But he was unutterably homesick. 

Poor man ! He had fancied that with a sufficient sum 
of money to support him in luxury, he would be comfort- 
able and contented among strangers and in strange sur- 
roundings. He was learning early, but still too late, the 
great error which he had committed in yielding to insidi- 
ous temptations. 


149 


ISO 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Like the brilliant philosopher, Lawrence Hill, Mr. 
Hannibal Ogle had believed that bien etre was alone the 
aim of human life. He may not have used this word in 
his reasoning. He may not have done more than enter- 
tain a vague conviction that a fine house, fine clothes and 
fine food, made up the sum of human happiness. He had 
spent his life in seeking these things. It had not entered 
into his calculations that with these coveted blessings 
ready to be grasped, the lack of a common element 
of life which he had always possessed would make them 
worthless. Truly he might now say to his soul, “Thou 
hast much goods laid up for many years, take thine ease, 
eat, drink, and be merry,” but his soul found this but 
vain and empty encouragement. His perverse soul es- 
chewed the oil and wine, the sumptous banquet which 
was spread for it, and pined for a certain desk in a certain 
counting-room in busy Chicago, for the familiar streets 
trodden by hurrying care-laden men, for hands which had 
grasped his, cold and cruel though it had sometimes been, 
for the faces which had lightened in friendly recognition 
when his eyes, selfish and dead though they were, had 
rested on them. 

Mr. Ogle paced his sitting-room slowly, wishing as de- 
voutly as it was possible for him, that he could live over 
again the past two months of his life. 

Mr. Ketchum was announced and Mr. Ogle somewhat 
cheered by the thought of seeing his countryman, re- 
quested that he be shown in. 

Of all the persons whom he had met since leaving 
America, Reuben Ketchum alone possessed the manners, 
accent and the expressions to which Mr. Ogle had been 


A HOMESICK MAN. 


151 

accustomed. He seemed the one possible sympathizing 
friend in a world of strangers. So it happened that 
Ketchum was frequently in Mr. Ogle’s mind, and that all 
his various vaguely defined plans of securing enjoyment 
outside of his own country, comprehended in some way the 
presence and friendly counsel of the American lawyer. 
In a certain degree, and after the manner of which Mr. 
Ogle’s selfish nature was capable, Mr. Ogle loved Ket- 
chum. 

“ Glad to see you,” said Mr. Ogle shaking hands with 
him, “ take a chair and tell us the news.” 

Mr. Ogle did not expect any special news. This was 
his most cordial formula of welcome to a visitor. 

Ketchum became seated, put his elbows on his knees, 
pulled the long tuft upon his impertinent chin, and wound 
his fingers in it, and looked with his steady light eyes at 
Mr. Ogle, who still continued his walk. 

“What’s the news ? What’s the news ? ” said Mr. Ogle. 

“ O there’s no news of any account,” said Ketchum, 
“ I had a dispatch yesterday from the other side.” 

“ Well, how’s trade there ?” 

“ Not much said in my telegram about trade. They 
seem to be quoting bank presidents rather low now in 
Chicago.” 

“ Eh ! ” said Mr. Ogle starting, turning and facing Ket- 
chum. Mr. Ogle’s cheeks seemed hollow, and his eyes 
more sunken. He looked liked a dweller on the river- 
bottoms of Indiana, when about to indulge in one of his 
semi-weekly chills. 

“ I have private advices,” said Ketchum in his ordinary 
tone, “ that the president of one of the prominent banks 


152 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

in Chicago, is thought by his directors, to have absconded 
with a large sum of money.” 

“ Ah ? ” asked Mr. Ogle with terrible earnestness, “ who 
is he ? ” 

“ The name,” said, Ketchum quietly, still keeping his 
cool eye on the dark face before him, “ is Hannibal 
Ogle.” 

“ It is a lie, sir, an infamous lie,” said the livid man in 
a concentrated low voice. 

“ I wish that you would satisfy me that it is a lie,” 
answered Ketchum. 

Mr. Ogle resumed his walk, and after a moment said 
more calmly, — 

“ I have many enemies, and as soon as my back is turned 
the dogs begin smelling around in my tracks.” 

“ Go back at once and face them Mr Ogle, and the 
dogs will shrink away to their kennels.” 

“ I will, sir, I will go back. What charges do they 
make ? Have the newspapers got hold of it ? If the 
newspapers got hold of it they would play the devil with 
my reputation.” 

“ I suppose,” said Ketchum, “ that nothing of this has 
been published in the newspapers. The directors are 
keeping the matter very quiet, hoping to recover the 
money without publicity.” 

“ The scoundrels ! ” exclaimed Mr. Ogle. “ What 
charges do they make ? ” 

“ They charge conspiracy between Hannibal Ogle and 
Thomas Cripps, by which a large sum was taken from 
the bank on worthless securities.” 

“ It is a lie, sir ; an infamous lie. And I can prove it 


A HOMESICK MAN. 


153 


a lie. Will you be my lawyer, Mr. Ketchum ? I will 
pay you well. I will pay you any fee you please to ask.” 

“ I am already retained by the bank, Mr. Ogle,” an- 
swered Ketchum. 

“You!” ejaculated the wretched man, his aspect of 
terror returning. “ You retained by the bank ! Have I 
no friend to help me ? ” 

“ If you are innocent of this charge, Mr. Ogle, you can 
easily satisfy me,” said Ketchum, soothingly. “ I will 
then gladly be your friend, and defend you against all 
unjust accusations.” 

“ How much do the directors of the bank pay you ? ” 
asked Mr. Ogle, something of his old business manner 
returning. 

“ They will pay me a reasonable fee, I guess. That 
does not enter into the arrangement.” 

“ Charge me double, or three times what you meant to> 
charge them, and be my lawyer,” said Mr. Ogle, insinuat- 
ingly. 

“ Mr. Ogle,” Ketchum replied, coldly, “ you have lost 
your senses, or you wouldn’t make that proposal to me. 
Think how it damages your case to try to suborn the 
attorney of the other side. By doing so you insult me. 
who would otherwise be most kindly disposed towards 
you, and make most injurious evidence against yourself.” 

“ I must be crazy,” said Mr. Ogle, piteously. “ I am a 
broken down old man, and every one is turned against 
me. 

“ But,” said Ketchum, anxious not to miss the point 
at which he had been aiming, “ prove to me that these 
charges are false, and I will overlook anything of per- 


154 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


sonal nature, and will do my best to put you right with 
the directors in Chicago. You lent Thomas Cripps five 
hundred thousand dollars without the knowledge of your 
directors, and then came to Europe with him for the 
purpose of sharing in the money thus obtained by him. 
That is the charge. What have you to say against it ? ” 

“ It is not true, sir,” answered Mr. Ogle, rousing him- 
self. “ I made loans to Mr. Cripps at various times, as I 
made loans to other men. I used my own judgment con- 
cerning the collaterals in his case as in other cases. Just 
before coming to Europe these loans were consolidated 
in one for convenience, as Mr. Cripps was to be absent 
some time. I traveled with Mr. Cripps because he was 
my friend. I am not responsible for the loans to Mr. 
Cripps any more than I am responsible for other loans 
made by me for the bank. There is no fraud or con- 
spiracy in this transaction. It is clear as daylight.” 

“ But, Mr. Ogle, do you think that Mr. -Cripps will pay 
this five hundred thousand dollars to the bank when his 
note becomes due ? ” 

“ I cannot say, sir,” said Mr. Ogle now bringing for- 
ward his lower lip, and speaking in a confident manner, 
as he was wont to speak to the wiseacres who asked him 
whether stocks would rise or fall. “ If Mr. Cripps has 
the money he will pay his note. It will be time enough 
to cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

“ But, Mr. Ogle, has Cripps never paid you any part of 
that money which you lent him from the bank’s funds ?” 

“ No, sir ; I have never received one cent from Cripps. 
Do you suppose that he is fool enough to put his name to 
a note for a large amount, and then give me part of it. 


A HOMESICK MAN. 


155 


No, sir ; Cripps doesn’t go around giving his money away 
like that. Why, sir,” said Mr. Ogle, waxing brave in his 
own justification, “ here is Thomas Cripp’s receipt for 
the full five hundred thousand dollars, dated in Chicago 
more than a month ago. Do you take him for a besotted 
fool, who would sign such a receipt, when he expected to 
pay a part of the money to me ? ” 

Ketchum took the paper which was thus triumphantly 
extended to him. 

He read it, and then held it up to the light. The na- 
ture of the transaction between Ogle and Cripps was 
made plain to him in an instant. He said calmly : 

“ This receipt is a fraud. It convicts you. It is dated 
in Chicago, last month. It was executed in England. 
It has an English water mark. It was delivered to you 
yesterday, and you paid fifty thousand pounds for it. I 
can produce a witness who will identify it, and who will 
testify as to time and place of its delivery.” 

Mr. Ogle appeared again like a victim of the chills. 

“ It is of no use for you to deny this grave charge,” 
Ketchum continued, soberly. “ You are caught. The 
case is complete against you, and I can cause your arrest 
in ten minutes.” 

Mr. Ogle shuddered, and the drops of perspiration 
stood on his dark forehead. 

“What can I do?” he exclaimed. “You are my 
countryman. You are the only one near on whom I 
can call. Tell me what to do.” 

Ketchum said, deliberately : “ Every man is innocent 
in the eye of the law until he is proved guilty according 
to the forms of law. You are entitled to a fair and pub- 


1 5 6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


lie trial, and if you intend to ask for such a trial, you 
ought not to put yourself any further in my power. But 
if you wish to avoid publicity, if you are ready to turn 
over any funds or property in your hands to the bank, 
and to assist the bank in recovering its funds from 
Thomas Cripps, you may think it best to make me fully 
informed of the whole transaction.” 

Mr. Ogle paced the floor. His head was bowed. 

“ Will you guarantee me against arrest ? ” he asked. 

“ If you make such restitution as is in your power, and 
give full evidence against Cripps, I will protect you from 
all prosecution.” 

“ And can I go back to Chicago ? ” 

“ If you like.” 

“ I wish I had known that you represented the bank 
when on the steamship. I could have saved then fifty 
thousand pounds.” 

“ I did not know it myself at that time,” said Ketchum. 

“ I will accept your offer,” said Mr. Ogle. “ I have 
been a cursed lunatic, and I’ll do what I can to put 
things to rights.” 

But Mr. Ogle’s confession was postponed, for Mrs. 
Ogle entered, sprightly and pretty, and neither of the 
gentlemen could help dissembling the gravity of their 
conversation. 

Ketchum had noticed long ago a shade of sadness 
under Mrs. Ogle’s cheerfulness. It seemed a delicate, 
shrinking sense of impending evil — a timidity which sus- 
pected misfortune to be lurking at the corners of her 
path. He felt for her now the most profound pity — a 
pity deeper than the common emotional luxuries in which 
he allowed himself to indulge. 


A HOMESICK MAN. 


157 


Dinner was announced. Mr. Ogle said that as he was 
indisposed, he would remain in his sitting room, and have 
something sent up to him, and that he would be ready 
to see Mr. Ketchum after dinner. 

Ketchum conducted Mrs. Ogle outside the door. Then 
he returned as if he had forgotten something, and said in 
a low tone : 

“ You’d better not go out of the house until after I see 
you again. It would raise a breeze, you know.” 

Mr. Ogle replied humbly, “ You may trust me.” 

Mrs. Ogle smiled pleasantly as she went into dinner 
with Ketchum, and said : 

“ I’m so glad you’ve had a talk with Mr. Ogle. He’s 
frightfully homesick, and you cheer him up. If you’d 
only let him talk business with you, you might make him 
quite happy. Poor man! he doesn’t enjoy talking of 
anything else.” 


1 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


A lovers’ meeting. 

L AWRENCE HILL was permitted to have a joyous 
interview with Ellen, before dinner, 

To be allowed to meet this sweet young woman alone, 
to clasp her hands and gaze tenderly into her eyes, as she 
rose to greet him, repeating unconsciously the tableaux of 
Millais’ picture, then to draw her gently into his arms, to 
feel her head resting lovingly on his shoulder, to mark 
beatific smiles, to softly kiss her willing lips — this was a 
happiness worth crossing the ocean to attain, a happiness 
besides which the pleasures of treading in historic foot- 
steps became pale or colorless. 

It was strange to him that he should thus find the gem 
of the old world’s treasures in an unknown lodging-house 
in the West End of London. But he was more than satis- 
fied. 

He said, “ this is not a dream or a delusion, I may love 
you Ellen, and you will love me.” 

And she said. “ yes,” 

“ And you consent to become my wife.” 

She answered, “ yes.” 

No tremor in her voice, no hesitation in her manner. 
She knew her own mind perfectly. He was the one man 
on all the earth whom she was ready to follow without 
question. 158 


A LOVERS’ MEETING. 


159 


Such undistracted bliss can bless few thinking beings, 
and he possessed that sensitive nobility of soul, which 
alone can reverence and reciprocate trust so complete. 
They were two fortunate atoms brought by the currents 
of life together — to meet to touch, to join above the 
baser passions of the multitude in that upper region of 
serene purity and truth. 

“ Can you not,” she said at length, “ forgive Mr. 
Cripps ? ” 

“ I can forgive at this moment, every creature that ever 
wronged me,” he said. 

She answered, “ forgive Mr. Cripps then for my sake. 
He is my step-father and my guardian. He has been very 
kind to me. In his way he has done what he thought was 
for my good.” 

“ O yes, I forgive Mr. Cripps.” 

“ Forgive him,” she said, “and be kind to him. Can 
you do that ? ” 

“ I will make the effort.” 

“ I go,” she said, “ with Mr. Cripps to Lancashire to- 
morrow.” 

“ Ah ! and leave me ? ” 

“ You may follow, if it pleases you. I will visit at Mr. 
Byrchfield Hopes’, at St. Helen’s. The family are old 
friends of ours. You can find me easily and I will wel- 
come you to a charming English home.” 

“ But my dearest Ellen, does not Mr. Cripps wish to 
shut you up there away from me ? ” 

“ No, no,” she answered smiling tenderly, “ Mr. Cripps 
is really planning for our marriage. Does not that sur- 
prise you ? ” 


l6o ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

“ It does, indeed.” 

“ Of course I must be married as a good English girl, 
in the old parish church. As I have no home of my own, 
you know, I must stay at the home of my friends. Mrs. 
Hope is one of my mother’s friends and will receive me as 
one of her own daughters. And we can go from her 
house to the church, if you don’t tire of me meanwhile.” 

“ And is this Mr. Cripps plan ? ” 

“Yes, his very plan.” 

“ Then, I have indeed misjudged him, But are you 

sure he means this thing to be.” 

“Yes, sure. There are but two living people who can 
prevent it — you and I, and I know one of these two who 
will be always ready to do her part.” 

“And I will answer for the other.” 

“And Mr. Cripps is powerless.” 

“ When do you go ? ” asked Hill. 

“ At noon, to-morrow, and you may come next day. 
Be careful that you do not lose your way. Be careful of 
yourself meanwhile.” 

“ Why may not I go with you ? ” 

“ Propriety, English propriety. If I should journey 
with my avowed lover in a railway carriage from London 
to Liverpool, I think that Mrs. Byrchfield Hope would 
shut me out of doors.” 

“ What if Mr. Cripps were there ? ” 

“ O, it is better that I go without you. Trust me dear- 
est, for I know these people well, I wish them to see you 
without prejudice, after I have told them of you. You 
will come so fine and grand, and I shall be so proud.” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


THREE TETE-A-TETES. 

T HE dinner to which so many dialogues have been 
leading up was uneventful. 

To Ketchum’s great surprise Hill was remarkably civil 
to Mr. Cripps, and the latter gentleman maintained his 
usual unenthusiastic manner. Ketchum himself was not 
talkative but Mrs. Ogle was animated and Ellen radiant. 

After the dinner Ketchum returned to Mr. Ogle. Hill 
and Ellen were allowed to occupy an adjoining sitting- 
room, Mrs. Ogle was unwilling to disturb her husband and 
Mr. Ketchum in the interview concerning which she had 
such pleasant and mistaken impressions. 

She remained in the room where the dinner had been 
served, a sort of common sitting-room made use of by the 
whole party, and Mr. Cripps was pleased to give her his 
company. 

In overhearing which of these three pairs of after-din- 
ner talkers does the shrewd reader think that he will find 
the liveliest interest ? Does he fancy after dinner love- 
making, and will he listen to the pretty sentiments with 
which Lawrence Hill and the fair Ellen make each other 
happy ? Ah ! there is nothing new under the sun, and the 
words which have the freshness of morning on the lips of 

161 


162 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


those we love, make but the hackneyed phrases of an old 
comedy when they are not meant for us. We have a 
friendly regard for our sincere English girl, and we give 
our honest approval to our high spirited American, but 
we must forbear to follow them too closely when they 
enter upon enchanted ground, lest we hear them talking 
like moon-struck children, and behaving like the silly 
swains and shepherdesses of the golden age. 

Perhaps we have had enough of the miserable Ogle’s 
business. Who wants to hear a long confession, in which 
this wretched mail recites how he was tempted to close 
up a life of unsuccessful selfishness, by taking funds 
which he did not own with the purpose of retiring to a 
foreign country, where he might pass his days in ease and 
quietness ? Of course he laid the blame on Thomas 
Cripps. Cripps tempted him. Cripps told him that the 
bank owed him a debt of gratitude for his years of ser- 
vice, which the sum which he would take would not re- 
pay. Cripps discribed the simplicity and secrecy of the 
transaction, and the comfort of living abroad. Cripps 
offered to be his confederate. Cripps would give his 
note. He, Ogle, should take the funds to Europe and 
then divide with Cripps. Cripps would deal with the 
bank when the note became due. Meanwhile, if the 
bank directors should reproach Ogle with having lent the 
funds unwisely, he might become righteously indignant 
and resign his position as President. This had been the 
pretty plan. Nearly up to the point where the happiness 
should come in it had been carried out, but not the faint- 
est glimpse of this desirable presence had been afforded 
the heart-sick plotter. He was ready to surrender every- 


THREE TETE-A-TETES. 


163 

thing, to do his best to recover the money which had been 
paid to Cripps, and to throw himself upon the mercy of 
his old friends and associates. Did his wife know any- 
thing of his transactions ? With groans of contrition, he 
confessed that she had not the faintest suspicion of his 
schemes. She had married him supposing him to be 
wealthy. He had lost his richness in speculations, and 
had never told to her his true condition. She had no 
notion that he intended remaining in Europe. The blow 
of his disgrace would kill her. At this point Ketchum 
considered himself a thorough ruffian, and industriously 
sought to invent some means by which this blow might be 
warded. 

But while these uninteresting talks are in progress, what 
is the pretty Mrs. Ogle doing. What is the skillful Thomas 
Cripps saying ? 

Mrs. Ogle held a little wicker basket in her lap. This 
basket contained some bright worsted yarn, and a pair of 
scissors and nicknacks, and Mrs. Ogle’s fingers were busily 
engaged in knotting that worsted yam into fantastic 
shapes, presumably for the purpose of decorating some- 
body or something. 

Mr. Cripps took a chair facing her and asked permis- 
sion to light a cigar. Mrs. Ogle was one of those delight- 
fully good tempered women who profess to like tobacco 
smoke, so Mr. Cripps lighted his cigar. 

Mr. Cripps smoked and looked at Mrs. Ogle for some- 
time, as she diligently wound her delicate fingers in and 
out of her work. 

Mrs. Ogle was wondering if this were not a good time 
for her to endeavor to reconcile Mr. Cripps to Ellen 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


164 

Ravenhill’s little love affair and was contriving the best 
way to begin. 

“ Those are droll little tucks you are knitting, to be 
sure,” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ Pretty, aren’t they ? ” she said, holding up her hands. 

Mr. Cripps leaned forward to make an inspection, and 
as her hands were hopelessly entangled in the worsted r 
and Mr. Cripps wished to have a steady view he seized the 
neat little wrist and held it until he had made a careful 
examination, and some seconds after Mrs. Ogle had made 
a movement to disengage it. 

Mr. Cripps then sat up and puffed his cigar. 

“ I’m to leave you on the morrow,” said he presently. 

“Yes, and you take Ellen, she tells me. I’m so glad 
she is going to have such a nice husband.” 

“ Humph ? ” said Mr. Cripps. 

“ Would you like to do something to oblige me, Mr. 
Cripps ? ” 

“ Yes, madam, to be sure, I would oblige you.” 

“ Then don’t make any objections to Ellen’s marrying 
Mr. Hill.” 

“ Objections, Mrs. Ogle, on my part are ineffectual. 
She is her own mistress. She may marry whom it pleases 
her.” 

“But you know she thinks ever so much of your opin- 
ion. She would like to have you pleased too.” 

“ I’m the most obliging man in the world, Mrs. Ogle, 
but I do not wish to lose my little Ellen. I shall be devil- 
ish lonesome madam, if Ellen marries.” 

1 So you will. Poor man ! Why don’t you get married 
too ?” said the little woman archy. 


THREE TETE-A-TETES. 


165 


“Would I make a good husband, Mrs. Ogle ? ” 

“ O, of course/’ 

“ Would you marry me if Mr. Ogle should you know 

die or anything of that sort ? ” 

“ Why, what a funny question, Mr. Cripps,” she replied, 
bent on keeping him in good humor. 

“ I’d like to marry you, Mrs. Ogle, you are the women 
who would please me, suppose Ogle should die, would 
you marry Thomas Cripps ? ” 

“You’re a dreadful man to talk about such things.” 

“ Something may happen to Ogle. He’s not stout, you 
know, and it would not be bad for you to know where to 
look if he should pop off some day, would it now ? ” 

“ How can you talk so ? ” 

“ I know Ogle. He’s a queer fish. He’ll serve you a 
trick some day. Then you think of Thomas Cripps. Do 
you think Ogle intends to go back to America ? ” 

“ Of course, when we have finished our travels.” 

“ When do you think he means to go back to Chicago ? ” 
“ Perhaps next fall, perhaps not until winter. If we 
like it we may stay here a year.” 

Mr. Cripps smoked his cigar and said coolly, 

“ Ogle will never return. He’ll fancy Europe and stay 
here.” 

“ Why shouldn’t Mr. Ogle return to Chicago, Mr. 
Cripps ? ” 

“ He has good reasons. But do not you sorrow for 
that. Remember that Thomas Cripps will welcome you, 
and come to him if anything happens to Ogle.” 

“ You surprise me Mr. Cripps. I think you are mis- 
taken.” 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


1 66 

“ Do not you fret your husband for what I have said, 
but remember it for yourself that Thomas Cripps will 
marry you when Ogle pops off.” 

Mr. Cripps’ manner had all this time been growing 
more easy and insolent, at this point he attempted to ex- 
amine the worsted once more. But Mr^. Ogle sprang up, 
wrenched her wrist out of his grasp, and fled from the 
room. She thought that he had taken too much wine at 
dinner. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


ketchum’s triumph. 

M RS. OGLE came in flushed and excited. She in- 
terrupted the conference between Mr. Ogle and 
Mr. Ketchum. The latter had just obtained an order and 
a check which put him in possession of a large amount 
of bonds and money to be delivered to the Chicago bank. 
Mr. Ogle sat in an easy chair. It might rather be said 
that the easy chair held Mr. Ogle. He seemed a nerve- 
less heap. He was the shadow of his former self, — the 
ghost of a ghost. 

Mrs. Ogle forgot the insult which she had just suffered. 
The piteous apprehension of misfortune, which Ketchum 
had previously detected lurking under her pleasant ex- 
pression, came out like sympathetic ink before the fire. 
The look of foreboding was ready to welcome the evil 
face. 

“ What — what has happened ? ” she exclaimed kneeling 
at her husband’s side. 

He did not raise his bowed head. He turned his eyes 
away from her. She hid her face on the arm of his chair 
and wept. 

She did not know the cause of his grief. It was the 
vague impending disaster for which somehow, for years, 
she had been preparing herself. 167 


1 68 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Ketchum stood looking at the husband and wife. He 
was the cruel, inexorable instrument by which this misery 
had been accomplished. He felt that he was a mercenary 
wretch, triumphing*in the sufferings of a misguided man 
and of a woman, for whose protection he was conscious 
that he chivalrously would have given his life. He hated 
himself. But he had no right to remain there, to exalt 
over his victims. 

He stood by them and said, “ Don't be discouraged. 
This trouble will soon pass away. I will come to see you 
in the morning, very early.” 

He went out of the room on tip-toes and closed the 
door softly behind him. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


AT THE STATION. 

T HE Midland Railway train leaves the St. Pancras 
station at noon, Mr. Cripps and Ellen Ravenhill 
were there. He was looking after the bestowment of the 
luggage- She was seated in a first-class carriage, and 
Lawrence Hill was standing at the open door, saying a few 
words of farewell. There was the usual hurrying too and 
fro, the usual stumbling over boxes by impatient passen- 
gers, families of strangers were confounding themselves 
with each other. Men and women thrusting themselves 
into the wrong compartments, porters pushing trucks and 
crying, “By your leave there. By your leave.” Guards 
examining tickets and banging doors — altogether creating 
a scene of confusion with the inexperienced would pro- 
nounce hopeless. Amidst the turmoil, a stout full bearded 
man tapped Mr. Cripps on the shoulder, and gained that 
gentleman’s attention to a paper which he held in his 
hand. A few moments conversation ensued, and then 
with the stout man close at his elbow, Mr. Cripps stepped 
to the door of Ellen’s compartment. The guard stood 
ready to close and lock the door. Hill had drawn back. 

Mr. Cripps said, “ Ellen I am unexpectedly detained by 
important business at the last moment. You must go on 

169 


170 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

alone. 1 will telegraph to Hope to meet you at the 
station.” 

The guard shut the door. The train began to move. 
Hill would have jumped into Ellen’s carriage when he 
saw that Cripps was left behind, but she smiling, forbade 
him. She kissed her hand to him as the train glided out 
of the station. 

Hill saw Cripps go away in the dispersing crowd with 
the stout man. They entered a closed carriage in the 
dark corner of which Hill recognized the slouched hat of 
his friend Ketchum. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


ketchum’s exultation. 

H ILL and Ketchum dined together that evening. 

Hill was cheerful. The thoughts of Ellen which 
filled his mind, the prospect of his journey on the mor- 
row to find her in Lancashire, the pleasure to which he 
looked forward to her society, caused him to smile with 
contentment. But Ketchum was gloomy, almost sullen. 

Hill said, “ saw you, my boy, at the Midland Station. 
You tried to hide yourself in the corner of the cab, but 
the bushel was not big enough to conceal your shining 
light.” 

“Aha ! ” answered Ketchum. 

“ So you bagged my expectant step-father-in-law, did 
you ? Did you shut him up in durance vile ? Is he in- 
carcerated ? Is he jugged ? ” 

“ No,” said Ketchum. 

“ I don’t know whether you ought to be pursuing my 
pseudo relative in futuro , with your processes and sum- 
monses. It doesn’t look well to have even ones rascally 
step-father-in-law convicted of felony. Did he give bail ? 
Did he counter on you with a habeas corpus ? ” 

“ No,” said Ketchum, “ but I’m a thundering villain.” 

“ Jupiter tonans of villainies ! King villain of gods and 
men and little fishes ! Did he prove that you had robbed 

171 


172 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


the Chicago bank, and that he was a virtuous lawyer from 
Cayuga ?” 

“No,” said Ketchum, “ whatever pleasure can be de- 
rived from rescuing five hundred thousand dollars or so 
for one’s client, I am entitled to enjoy.” 

“ What ! ” said Hill, “ Do you say that you have recov- 
ered all the money so soon ? ” 

“Nearly all of it,” said Ketchum, gloomily. 

“Then, my boy, I congratulate you. You ought to be 
uproarious. You ought to sing a paean. You ought to 
make a fourth of July of this day according to your most 
approved patriotic fashion.” 

“ Humph ! ” growled Ketchum. 

“ What ails you ! ” asked Hill, “ did you sell your soul 
to the devil as the price of your success ? ” 

“Yes, I think I did,” said Ketchum soberly, “there 
was a man somewhere in ancient history who had the luck 
to kill his best friends whenever he made a success of his 
hunting expedition. Herodotus tells about him and you 
may think of his name. No matter, I’m that fellow.” 

“ How so ? If you were beginning a slaughter of your 
best friends, I flatter myself that I would be in danger.” 

“ So you are. So you have been. I suspect that the 
work which I have done to-day has used up Miss Raven- 
hill’s entire fortune.” 

“ Indeed, and I am to consider myself a dead man in 
consequence ? If my life hangs on the existence of 
Ellen’s inheritance, I am a much less substantial being 
than I suppose myself to be. Whatever her fortune may 
be I know not, but if she should lose it, I think that I 
would not regret it. My marrying her would be so much 


ketchum’s exultation. 


173 


the less opposed. I would like to know what adventures 
you have had to-day, if you are inclined to be communi- 
cative.” 

“Well, you see, I had Cripps arrested in a quiet way. 
I took him to the room of a friendly solicitor and told him 
the exact facts. I convinced him that I had evidence to 
convict him of conspiracy to defraud. Ogle's confession 
which I obtained last night was enough for that. He 
laughed at me at first, and then played the outraged gen- 
tleman. But I soon convinced him that I held not only 
his person, but his money in my power. He tried various 
cool dodges, and but that I knew him, I think that he would 
have escaped me. At last, however, he surrendered, gave 
up the money which he had obtained from Ogle, under 
protest, and took my receipt for the same in a most busi- 
ness-like manner. He will be after me yet, if he finds 
that he has any legal ground to stand upon. Among his 
other devices for eluding me, he claimed that this money 
did not belong wholly to him, but partly to Miss Raven- 
hill, and that all her fortune of twenty thousand pounds, 
was represented in the sum which he turned over to me. 
Somehow, I was convinced that he spoke the truth. I 
reasoned it out to myself, putting together scraps of infor- 
mation which I have *had from various sources, and this 
is my theory. Cripps, in the first place, invested Miss 
Ravenhill’s money in America. He went to America to 
look after this investment, it proved worthless and the 
money was lost. The worthless securities which Cripps 
used as collateral in the Chicago bank, were his invest- 
ment of Miss Ravenhill’s money. But having lost the 
money in America, he devised the scheme which he car- 


174 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


ried out with Ogle, for reimbursing himself and repaying 
Miss Ravenhill, and keeping his reputation good in Eng- 
land. It was a shrewd scheme. But for Ogle’s confession 
they both might have laughed and kept their money. I 
could never have proved conspiracy, and it would have 
been simply a case of common debt,” 

“ You managed admirably,” said Hill. “ But what a 
delectable scoundrel I am likely to have for a step-father- 
in-law ! I say, Ketchum, I am very grateful for that 
‘step.’ That word in that connection is worth, at least, 
one hundred thousand dollars. But I say, my boy, this 
case will put a big feather in your cap. Recovering and 
returning half a million of dollars is not a common achieve- 
ment. You’re a hero.” 

“ Don’t say a word,” said Ketchum mournfully. “ Don’t 
you ever breath a word of this story to a living soul. I 
wish that I had never heard of the case. I would be glad 
to have Cripps get away with double the money, and live 
as nearly like an honest man as possible, if I could be re- 
lieved of my responsibility in this matter. I released him 
to avoid making it public. I would not for a world have 
it mentioned in the newspapers. The best you can make 
of it, it is a sad business.” 

“But my dear fellow,” said Hill, cheerfully, “you 
should’nt take it so much to heart. It is not your fault 
that Cripps is a villain. Miss Ravenhill if she has any- 
thing to forgive, will forgive you smilingly, she would not 
have asked you to vary a hair from the line of your duty, 
for the sake of her fortune.” 

“ But what,” asked Ketchum solemnly, “ can I say to 
that broken down old man, who, exiled from his friends 


ketchum’s exultation. 


175 


and country, must live out his wretched, ruined life in 
this solitude of foreigners ? How can I think of that in- 
nocent, lovely woman bowed down — yes, by George, 
broken-hearted and crushed — and all the good of life for 
her gone out in an instant. All this has been brought 
about by my infernal smartness. And I went around 
with them as their friend. It is despicable business and 
I ought to be shot.’' 

There was something like water in Ketchum’s eyes 
when he mentioned Mrs. Ogle. 

Hill answered softly, “ I forgot them. They must be 
very much depressed.” 

“Depressed! ” said Ketehum, with a show of impatience, 
“ did you ever see a man hung ? ” 

“ No,” answered Hill. 

“Well, I did once.” said Ketehum, “and he did not 
suffer half the visible agony that that poor old man en- 
dured last night. The terrors of a disgraceful death are 
nothing to the terrors of a solitary and disgraceful life. If 
you would fully know the folly of a crime you must see the 
abject despair of a once respectable, expatriated criminal.” 

The two friends were silent some moments. At length 
Hill said slowly and seriously. 

“ Do you know, Ketehum, I begin to think that there 
is a mysterious power in this common love of country, 
which I have never taken into account. It may be that 
there is a genuine affection in human nature deeper than 
selfishness, which is not recognised in our advanced 
theories. It may be that even the most thorough philoso- 
phic man, one whose feelings are most fully under subjec- 
tion to his reason, cannot find in mere 1 well being,’ most 


176 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


complete satisfaction. It may be that the perfect man 
needs a country to be devoted to, as well a wife to love." 

Ketchum gazed intently at him and said impressively, 

“ My dear fellow, if in this trip of ours, you find your gen- 
uine soul, I shall have some reason to be glad we made it.” 

Hill continued, “ 1 see all around me here the most in- 
tense patriotism. It is not loud, it is deep. You feel 
here that everyone of these common-place Englishmen, 
are ready, if need be, to welcome death like Nelson and 
the other heroes who have monuments in Westminster 
Abbey and St. Paul’s. There is no such feeling prevalent in 
America. There has been no such feeling since the war. 
Why is that ? ” 

“Because,” said Ketchum, “there is in the United 
States a large class of well-educated gentlemen, who take 
no interest in public affairs, who secretly, if not openly, 
adopt the theory that the form of government is an experi- 
ment, who prefer to live at their ease and spin superfine 
criticisms, rather than work manfully and wisely with the 
material which is at hand, to make the best of the nation — 
because, my dear fellow, there are too many men in 
America like you.” 

Hill said more cheerfully, “ Well done old fellow, you 
use the argiimentum ad hominem with good effect. Do 
you know, I believe Ellen takes something that view of 
the matter. She is the most loyal Englishwoman living. 
But she will not hear of my becoming an Englishman. She 
insists that I must remain an American, and when we are 
married she will be an American too. She has so much 
quiet, unreasoning enthusiasm, that she will make of me a 
conspicuous American patriot in short order. I see that 
it is my fate, I surrender to both of you.” 


CHAPTER XL. 


A CONVERSATION. 

M R. BYRCHFIELD HOPE of St. Helen's was 
a short gentleman of somewhat rotund figure. 
He was a gentleman in the old English sense of the 
word. He had a sufficiently ample income to live at his ease. 
He had inherited his house and grounds, and his income, 
from another rotund little Byrchfield Hope who preceded 
him, and his only ambition was, to transmit name, house, 
and income to a small reproduction of himself, who was 
growing up in jacket and knickerbockers under his pater- 
nal eye. The little Byrchfield had arrived to take the 
position of heir somewhat tardily, and only some years 
after his expecting father had been called to mourn suc- 
cessively the births of three round-faced daughters. As 
a consequence, Mr. Byrchfield Hope was over fond of his 
son. He cased his own stout little legs in knickerbockers, 
and tramped over the country with the youngster. He 
taught him to ride. He looked well to his schooling. He 
delighted to engage in boy-talk with him. He was never 
so happy as when relating some precious speech or action 
of his infant prodigy. This was the main employment of 
Mr. Birchfield Hope’s life. 

Can anyone imagine anything more conservative that 
one of the human links in one of these English chains of 

177 


i 7 8 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


descent, on which respectable names and comfortable 
livings pass safely from generation to generation ? Mr. 
Byrchfield Hope, of course, hated the name of liberalism, 
as he dreaded a pestilence. Under this name were com- 
pounded all the evils which afflict mankind. John Bright, 
was to him a personification of Beelzebub, and Gladstone 
was the arch-fiend himself. Deliverance from the crafts 
and assaults of the devil for which he dutifully prayed, 
meant to him the overthrow of the great radical leader, 
and he never tired of relating how in 1869, when Mr. 
Gladstone had stood for election as member from Lan- 
cashire, he had recorded his vote against him, had man- 
fully hissed him on the hustings, and had worked suc- 
cessfully for his defeat. 

It may well be believed that this pillar of English soci- 
ety did not entertain any favorable opinion of the great 
republic on the other side of the Atlantic. Equally with 
the Romish Church it merited his hatred and contempt* 
as the mother of false doctrine, heresy and schism. He 
knew nothing of the Americans. He considered them a 
race of half barbarous fanatics, living in a turmoil of fraud 
and violence at home, and running about in other coun- 
tries as dishonorable schemers, seeking to drive sharp 
bargains, and to agitate the minds of the lower classes 
for the destruction of existing order. 

The ingenious Mr. Cripps reckoned shrewdly when he 
procured from Mrs. Byrchfield Hope an invitation for Ellen 
Ravenhill to visit in this pleasant home. Mr. Lawrence 
Hill would meet there anything but a congenial recep- 
tion when he came to press his suit. The influence of 
associations would be exerted there, in full force to coun- 


A CONVERSATION. I 79 

teract the fascination which he had exercised over this 
tender maiden. 

Ellen Ravenhill was met at the station by the Hope 
carriage, and soon in the old verdure shrouded villa which 
she well remembered, was carried back to the days of her 
childhood. Mrs. Hope, a quiet motherly woman, Mrs. 
Hope’s three daughters, cheerful, commonplace girls, wel- 
comed her with affectionate tranquility. The influence 
which is exerted by a peaceful house upon one long used 
to the bustle of travel and changing life in public houses 
was doubly powerful upon Ellen, on account of the asso- 
ciations which these familiar scenes renewed. There was 
a strong tendency in her feelings to forget the intervening 
years and their incidents, and to become the simple con- 
tented girl to whom five years ago the world had all been 
contained in the horizon upon which she now gazed. 
Nothing out of these years of changing scenes would fol- 
low her to this retreat — nothing but the image of Lawrence 
Hill, even the thought of him seemed strange in these 
surroundings. 

Did Ellen have the slightest dread of his coming to 
break the charm ? When she sat with Mrs. Hope and her 
daughters, and talked of old friends and changes, did she 
have a faint fear that Lawrence Hill would not be in har- 
mony with these dear, comfortable belongings of her early 
life ? When she first thought of his coming here, she had 
pictured him a grand heroic presence causing himself to 
be admired and herself envied. She did not realize be- 
fore she found herself in St. Helen’s the narrow conven- 
tional views of her former friends which made the happy 
uneventful life there, unattainable to one not born within 


1 80 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

a certain little circle. She had forgotten that these for- 
tunate people looked upon all excellencies not pertaining 
to their peculiar aspirations with dull, uninterested eyes. 
A stranger, although he might be blest with all the graces 
and all the virtues, might appeal in vain for their favor. 

So she felt not altogether at ease at the part which she 
was to enact. She felt that she would be criticized, per- 
haps ridiculed, probably opposed, but she bravely entered 
upon the way which she had marked out for herself. She 
said, sitting with Mrs. Hope and her daughters, when they 
had fairly discussed the local gossip of the time gone by. 

“ I am engaged to an American gentleman.” 

“ Why, Nellie ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Hope in something 
like alarm. 

“ How lovely ! ” said the eldest Miss Hope. 

“ Tell us about him,” said the other girls. 

“ There is not much to tell. He is a fine fellow and 
you shall see him soon and judge of him for yourselves.” 

“ Is he handsome ? ” asked the eldest Miss Hope. 

“ I think him handsome,” answered Ellen quietly. 

“ How long have you known him ? ” asked Mrs. Hope 
seriously. 

“ Almost a month,” said Ellen, “ but I feel as if I had 
known him years.” 

“ And are you really engaged to a man whom you have 
known only so short a time ? Did you meet him on the 
steamship on the voyage home ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ellen simply, and she added, when an 
ominous silence followed. “ It seems disgraceful does it 
not ? But then I’m sure that I am right, and that he is a 
fit man for me.” 


A CONVERSATION. l8l 

“ Do you know anything of his family ? The Ameri- 
cans I think do not care for family.” 

“ I know very little of his family, nothing in fact but 
what he himself has told me. But he is really a gentle- 
man and comes of good English stock. He says that his 
family went from England to America more than two 
hundred years ago.” 

Mrs. Hope was silent, she pitied Ellen, and hoped that 
her girls would never be left orphans to wander around 
the world, and run into such dangers. 

Mrs. Hope changed the subject, although the girls 
wished to learn more about the American, and she took 
occasion when alone with her daughters, to say that this 
unfortunate affair of Nellie’s must be a warning to them. 

Thomas Cripps when he found himself unable to ac- 
company Ellen Ravenhill to Lancashire had posted a 
letter to Mr. Hope, briefly informing him that Ellen had 
unfortunately formed an attachment for an American, 
whom she had met on the steamship. This American, 
Mr. Cripps was good enough to say, was better than the 
common run of his countrymen, in manners and personal 
appearance. He was also reported as possessing a com- 
fortable fortune. But he was not such a person as he 
wished his step-daughter to marry, and Mr. Cripps ex- 
pressed the hope that the sight of her old home, and 
intercourse with her old friends might weaken the power 
which this cunning Yankee had established over her. 
Mr. Cripps added that as Ellen was now of age he had no 
legal authority over her, that she had refused to listen to 
his advice and had acted contrary to his wishes. 


182 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Mr. Byrchfield Hope on reading this letter was right- 
eously indignant. He said to himself, — 

“ Absurd, absurd ! The girl must hear reason. These 
rascally foreigners must be taught their proper places.” 

And Mr. Hope pictured to himself, how he would take 
prompt and effectual measures of punishing the presump- 
tuous Yankee who would dare to follow Ellen into his 
house — yes, by George, into his castle. 

Mr. Hope felt that his comfortable little body was the 
bulwark of English rights against an encroaching world. 
It had seldom been necessary for him to actually meet the 
enemy, but he firmly believed that he possessed the veri- 
table heart of oak in which Britain places her trust. 

When Mrs. Hope therefore in somewhat of a flutter of 
alarm proposed to astonish her husband with the intelli- 
gence that Nellie Ravenhill was engaged to an American, 
she found him with Cripps’ letter in his hand, swelling 
with choleric determination to effectually mar all the affec- 
tionate plans of our lovers. 

“ I will act,” said the benevolent man, “ as if Nellie 
were my own child. By George, do you know what I 
would do if one of my girls proposed to marry a rascally 
foreigner ? I would reason with her, by George, I would 
shut her up and feed her on bread and water. Yes, by 
George, I would make her have sense. I would show her 
that she couldn’t play such pranks.” 

“ It is dreadful,” said Mrs. Hope. 

“ It is scoundrelly,” exclaimed Mr. Hope, ‘‘and, by 
George, she shall hear reason.” 

“ The poor child has had no mother to watch over her,” 
said Mrs. Hope. 


A CONVERSATION. 


133 


“ Yes, by George, and Thomas Cripps is a fool not to 
have nipped this affair in the bud. Do you know what I 
would have done ? I would have horse-whipped the 
puppy and shut up the girl.” 

Mr. Hope’s tone was so loud that Ellen Ravenhill pass- 
ing in the hallway, overheard his words, and showed her 
British courage by walking into the presence of her 
critics. 

“ I have unintentionally heard your remarks my 
friends,” she said calmly, “ I wish to ask you to reserve 
your censure until you see the man who has asked me to 
become his wife.” 

Mr. Hope was somewhat flustered by the unexpected 
appearance of the young lady. He was not accustomed 
to such steady bearing on the part of the weaker sex. 

“ This is most extraordinary news Nellie,” he said, 
“ most extraordinary news. They tell me that you have 
engaged yourself to an American, a fellow whom you met 
on the steamship.” 

“ I am engaged to a gentleman, Mr. Hope,” she replied. 
“ He is an American and I met him on the steamship, 
But you can have no idea how fortunate I have been in 
gaining his love, until you have seen him.” 

“ I know the Americans, Nellie, better than you do,” 
said the self-sufficient Mr. Hope, “ they are a low-lived 
rascally race. There isn’t an honest man among them. 
I’ve had experience with them. Why, my grandfather 
bought some of their Mississippi stock, yes, by George, 
paid his honest money for it. And what did he get in 
return ? What an honest man always gets when he trusts 
scoundrels. He lost every penny of his investment, every 


1 84 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

penny. The infernal cheats repudiated the whole debt. 
Just laughed in our faces and said they wouldn’t pay it.” 

“ But my American doesn’t live within a thousand 
miles of Mississippi,” said Ellen. 

“They’re all one,” replied Mr. Hope, “all of the same 
rascally race. But that isn’t all, my father also lost 
by them. He bought bonds of the Confederate States. 
His solicitor advised the purchase. But, they tell me. 
now that these bonds never will be worth a penny.” 

“ But, Mr. Hope, “ the Confederate States were in rebel- 
lion against the Union, and when they were conquered 
their bonds became worthless.” 

“ It makes no difference. We lost our money by them, 
and if the Americans have any regard for our opinion they 
ought to pay those bonds. They are nothing but a con- 
federacy, as they call it, anyway, and their being con- 
quered and going on the same as ever, is only a hocus 
pocus to cheat us out of our money.” 

“But the Americans were Englisman originally, Mr. 
Hope.” 

“Yes, English rebels, and it is well we are rid of them, 
and they should stay on their side of the ocean, and not 
come sneaking back to steal our money and marry our 
nice girls. Oh ! no, Nellie, this is too bad. We must 
find you a better man here in your own country. You 
must give up this American. Really, you must, you know. 
It is a little scrape which you got into because you were 
young, uncared for. But we will help you out of it. You 
shall stay here with us and no American shall trouble you 
here.” 

“Yes, but, Mr. Hope, I love my American and I mean 


A CONVERSATION. 1 85 

to marry him. I will go back to America and become 
an American myself.” 

“ Tut, tut, my child, you will soon forget such foolish 
notions. We must have you see company, get up lawn 
parties, you shall ride and drive and walk. You’ll soon 
forget these stupid Americans, you know, when you see a 
bit of real English life.” 

Mr. Hope had become much mollified by hearing him- 
self talk, and he waved his hand to her kindly, as if he 
had settled the whole matter entirely to his satisfaction, 
and went out of the room. But he told Mrs. Hope after- 
wards that it was a nasty business, and that it showed the 
folly of taking young people out of their own country. 
His girls, he said, should never go out of England with his 
consent. 


CHAPTER XLI. 


AN ENCOUNTER ON THE COMMON. 

L AWRENCE HILL was not wildly impatient to 
follow Ellen to Lancashire. He promised himself 
much pleasure in being once more in her company. But 
he felt a delicious confidence and was willing to hover 
over his happiness. He went to St. Helen’s and Ketchum 
accompanied him. Ketchum bore a letter of introduc- 
tion to a solicitor who could give him desired information 
concerning Thomas Cripps. They took lodgings at a 
little inn, not far from the station. 

They arrived at night and Hill arose early the follow- 
ing morning, and after breakfast started alone for a walk 
in the country. He was in the mood for a ramble and a 
reverie. It was certainly enough to start the thinking 
mechanism of a contemplative mortal, that within four 
weeks he had changed his whole plan of life. He now 
had objects so far beyond his thoughts when he left 
America, that they never seemed to him among possi- 
bilities. 

Marriage he had always looked forward to as desirable 
at some convenient period in his life. He had never 
cynically derided love as a preliminary to matrimony. 
But he had never imagined for himself any other course 
than at a fitting time, selecting with judicious forethought 
1 86 


AN ENCOUNTER ON THE COMMON. 1 87 

some perfect specimen of womankind, well descended, 
well educated and amiable, — to such a one he would 
have addressed himself with pleasant and polite propriety, 
and would have done his part as gracefully as the heroes 
in our favorite society plays. He was looking forward to 
being married at some time to this unnamed paragon 
without enthusiasm, and living with her a faithful hus- 
band, without fondness and without unpleasantness. He 
never quarreled with people. Why should he not be 
able to live with any woman whom he might choose, 
agreeably. 

From this philosophical state of mind he had been 
hurried by a passion rapid and irresistible. Although, 
under its influence, he had lost control of himself, fortu- 
nately for him, it had borne him to his happiness, and 
now that he felt himself once more under command of 
his reasoning powers, he found a wonderful delight in 
looking back and questioning himself as to how he came 
to do those things, which on no account he now would 
have undone. 

The English scenery in a manufacturing district is not 
the landscape which an Englishman might choose to il- 
lustrate his country. But this Lancashire landscape was 
peculiarly grateful to Lawrence Hill. The paths winding 
aimlessly among patches of furze and hether over the 
rough commons, the low farm-houses glistening with 
whitewash among the trees and creepers, the rolling 
clouds and blue sky stretched with black smoke from the 
collier’s chimneys — seemed new and strange to him, like 
a landscape in a picture, like the new life which he had 
found in himself. He climbed over stiles and pushed 


1 88 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


through queer old gates. He delighted in learning the 
curious turns which the unaccountable paths took. And 
so he sauntered for miles. 

At length he seated himself on a large convenient 
stone amid high furze, on the top of a little hill, and 
looked over a wide valley. Soon he heard a boy coming 
panting up the path towards him, and then a boy’s voice 
exclaimed, — 

“ There, now the bloody thing ’s ruined.” 

A round and rosy little fellow in jacket and knicker- 
bockers came into view. He was holding a small kite 
which he was attentively fingering. He came slowly to- 
wards the spot where Lawrence Hill was sitting and 
stopped suddenly when he saw the stranger, and treated 
him to a long boyish stare. 

“ Well, my little man, you did not count on seeing me 
here ? ” 

“No, I wanted to stand on that stone to fly my kite.” 

“Very well, you may come up. You will not disturb 
me.” 

“ Ah ! but my kite is broken and will not rise.” 

“ Climb up here and let me look at it.” 

The boy came without hesitation, gave his kite to Hill 
and seated himself beside him, and the two examined the 
injured plaything with all the seriousness of consulting 
physicians. One of the sticks was split and broken off. 

Hill said, “ I think you would say that this was a 
laminated fracture of the rib, would you not ?” 

“ Eh ? ” said the boy. 

“ Have you a bit of thread ?” 

The boy produced a skein, and Hill deftly wound the 


AN ENCOUNTER ON THE COMMON. 1 89 

splintered stick and placed the kite in condition for 
active service. 

“ Good luck,” said the boy, and scrambled at once to 
his feet and tried to make the kite rise on the wind. 

Hill advised as to the direction in which the attempts 
should be made, and they presently had the satisfaction 
of seeing the object of their labors floating above their 
heads. 

Then a more labored panting in the path was heard in 
the path behind the furze, a man’s head could be seen, 
and presently Mr. Byrchfield Hope very red in the face, 
came fully into view. 

“She’s up father,” said the boy, “Don’t she sail grandly ? ” 

Mr. Hope wiped his forehead and looked inquiringly 
at the stranger. The boy did his best by way of intro- 
duction of his new friend. 

“ I broke my kite, father, and this gentleman kindly 
mended it.” 

“ Very kind of you, to be sure,” said Mr. Hope, satis- 
fied from the stranger’s appearance that he was not an 
undesirable acquaintance. “ It is warm in the sun. Will 
you allow me to sit by you, sir ? ” 

“With pleasure, sir,” said Hill, and made room by his 
side on the stone. 

Mr. Hope was not used to conceal his thoughts. He 
thought, like most choleric men of quiet life, that all the 
world was specially concerned in what particularly inter- 
ested him. He was just now thinking of the rascality of 
Americans, and he made no doubt that he was speaking 
to an Englishman, and therefore likely to find an appre- 
ciative listener. 


190 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“I’m very warm this morning, sir,” he said. “ In truth, 
sir, I’m unusually warm. Excitement always heats me. I’ve 
been under excitement this morning, unusual excitement.” 

“ I hope no unpleasant cause of excitement,” said 
Hill in a friendly spirit. 

“Yes, sir, devilish unpleasant cause. An American, a 
sneaking Yankee, sir, has arrived in St. Helen’s, and I 
have seen him ; not a half hour since I passed him by on 
the highway.” 

“Why, that is cause for alarm,” said Hill quietly. 
“ What do you do with such people ? Have you notified 
the police ? ” 

“No sir, I should do so. Have you had experience of 
the Americans ? ” 

“I know something of them,” answered Hill. 

“ They are cunning rascals,” said Mr. Hope. 

“ There are some bad men among them,” replied Hill 
highly amused. 

“They are all sharp, repudiating scoundrels,” said 
Mr. Hope. “ My grandfather invested in their Missis- 
sippi stock. My father bought bonds of their Confeder- 
ate States, and we lost every penny we put into them. I 
have no patience with them. I passed one of them not a 
half hour since on the public street, a tall, thin- faced 
villain, with a yellow beard on his chin and a big hat 
over his eyes, as if he feared to look honest men in the 
face. He swaggered like a lord of the manor. I wanted 
to kick him, sir.” 

“ Such a sight is truly unpleasant,” said Hill, imagining 
the face he would have in telling Ketchum how this 
worthy man had seen in him the ideal repudiator. 


AN ENCOUNTER ON THE COMMON. 191 

“Yes, sir, and that is not the worst I have to say of 
this American,” continued Mr. Hope, “ There is a young 
lady involved, as nice an English girl as ever stepped, sir. 
This Yankee has made love to her, and she wishes to 
marry him. But this young lady is under my protection 
at present, sir, and I will prevent him from carrying out 
his rascally schemes. I shall call every true Englishman 
to my assistance, and we will look to it that this base- 
born Yankee is foiled in his designs upon our free En- 
glish blood.” 

“That is showing praiseworthy spirit,” said Hill, not 
quite able to understand who his companion was, nor 
how he himself ought to act in the premises. 

Mr. Hope continued, “ It is a devilish strange story, 
sir. Girl comes of excellent stock, — a sensible, conserva- 
tive family, — but her father died at sea when she was a 
baby, and her mother married a Manchester man, whom 
all the best people here set down for a cad ; and when 
her mother died, her step-father took little Nellie with 
him to all sorts of foreign countries, and now that she is 
grown up, she comes back here and wishes to marry the 
confounded Yankee. By George, I can’t see what pos- 
sesses the girl ? What can she fancy in this ill-bred fel- 
low ? She met him on the steamship coming home. By 
George, if Tom Ravenhill was alive he would throttle the 
scoundrel. Tom Ravenhill was a true Briton, sir, and a 
gentleman. He ” 

“Wait a bit,” interrupted Hill. “ Is it possible that I 
am addressing Mr. Byrchfield Hope ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, certainly, sir. Whom else do you take me 
for ? ” 


192 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ And who do you think I am, Mr. Hope ? ” 

“ By George, I take you to be an English gentleman, 
sir.’" 

“ My name is Lawrence Hill. I am an American, and 
I hope to make Miss Ravenhill my wife.” 

“ God bless my soul, sir,” said Mr. Hope, jumping 
down with alacrity from the stone seat. 

“ I do not mind you censuring Americans,” said Hill, 
calmly. “ There are many bad men in that country, 
probably about the same number in proportion to popu- 
lation that there are in England. But do you not think 
that you are forming your opinions a little prematurely 
on Miss Ravenhill’s affairs ? ” 

“ Really, you know, now this is most astonishing ; most 
astonishing,” said Mr. Hope, looking around him, as if 
thinking of a way of retreat. “ Byrchfield, my son, take 
down the kite. We must go home. Take it down, sir.” 

“ Oh ! no father. She sails so finely. Let us remain 
longer.” 

“ I can relieve you of my presence, if it has suddenly 
become disagreeable to you. I don’t mind walking on 
to accommodate the lad,” said Hill, in his turn jumping 
to the ground. 

“ Oh ! do remain, sir, and watch the kite. See, now 
she takes all my line. How the twine bellies ! ” said the 
boy. 

“ No ; I think I’ll move on. Good by. Good morn- 
ing, Mr. Hope.” 

Hill raised his hat, and stalked away amidst the furze. 

He said to himself, “ If I had stayed there five min- 
utes more, I should have become a raving patriot.” 


AN ENCOUNTER ON THE COMMON. I93 

Mr. Hope stepped around uneasily on the ground by 
the big stone, and looked after Hill’s retreating figure, 
and then looked steadily at the kite, and then stepped 
around again and treated himself to muttered exclama- 
tions. He frequently informed himself that never in the 
course of his eventful life had he been so completely as- 
tonished. 


CHAPTER XLII 


THE CONSERVATIVE PROVES HIMSELF A FAIR MAN. 



AWRENCE HILL, after having been thus thor- 


J j oughly informed of Mr. Hope’s opinions concern- 

ing Americans, did not seek his house as he had ex- 
pected, in order to see Ellen. He went to his inn, and 
wrote a note, in which were many pleasant words, and 
by which he informed her of his adventure on the Com- 
mon, and the predicament in which it placed him. He 
could not go to a house, to the master of which he was 
unwelcome. He counselled her to do nothing rashly to 
irritate the prejudices of her friends, and to disregard his 
feelings in the matter, for he assured her that the slight 
to him was of insignificant consequence. He looked for- 
ward to their speedy union, and would wait patiently at 
the inn until circumstances opened a way to this desir- 
able consummation. 

While Ellen was pondering the important matters con- 
tained in this note, the young Byrchfield ran into the 
room, bearing his kite. He stood in the centre of the 
floor, and looked at her. She said : 

“ Where have you been flying the kite ? ” 

“ Upon the Common. Will you marry the nice gentle- 
man who mended my kite ? ” said the boy. 


“ Yes,” said Ellen. 
194 


THE CONSERVATIVE A FAIR MAN. 1 95 

“ What’s his name ? ” 

“ He is Mr. Lawrence Hill.” 

“ What’s an American ? ” 

“ A man who lives in America, across the big ocean.” 

“ Will you live in America when you are married ?” 

“ Yes,” said Ellen. 

“ Will you ask me to visit you next mid-summer ? ” 

“ Mayhap, if your father will permit you to go so far 
from home.” 

“ I will tease him,” said the boy. “ He permits me to 
do as I wish when I tease him.” 

“ Then tease him to be civil to Mr. Hill, and to invite 
him here to dinner on the morrow.” 

“ I will,” said the boy. “Where is Mr. Hill now?” 

“ At the inn in the town.” 

“ Don’t you wish father would ask him to visit us 
here ? I’ll ask that of father also.” 

The little Byrchfield ran away to find his father, and 
to prefer these requests at once, and Ellen after a few 
moments resolutely followed him. 

Mr. Byrchfield Hope was not naturally a surly man. 
He liked to be on good terms with his neighbors, to have 
a pleasant -word for all his acquaintances, and to be 
popular. If he had met an American with the introduc- 
tion of some Englishman of good family, he would have 
been not only affable, but even hospitable to him. 

Mr. Hope was proud of his English hospitality. He 
swelled with satisfaction when he welcomed a guest. He 
was punctiliously careful that the stranger within his gates 
should have every attention and comfort. He retained a 


9 6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


large remnant of that feeling, which is as old as the race, 
that he who partakes of your salt becomes one of your 
family. 

Mr Hope’s higher feelings got the better of his indig- 
nation when he thought over his strange encounter with 
Lawrence Hill. The impression that he had not cut a 
very creditable figure began to assert itself. If anyone 
had shown himself unmannerly that morning, it was not 
the American. And he would not have one of those dis- 
agreeable people possess just cause for reproach against 
Englishmen. Mr. Hope had a characteristic love of fair 
play, and he could not quite convince himself that the 
good humored young man whom he had met on the 
Common had been treated justly by him. This Ameri- 
can was not at all the person he had imagined, forcing 
his disagreeable presence into his conservative circle. 
In appearance, in manner, in speech he was for all the 
world like an Englishman. It was difficult to entertain 
a strong prejudice against him, and in spite of himself 
Mr. Hope found himself desiring to stand well in Mr. 
Hill’s opinion. 

Mr. Hope was riot by any means ready to favor this 
exceptional stranger’s desire to marry Ellen Ravenhill, 
but he began to think that as between man and man, 
there was an apology, or something very like it, due from 
him to this well behaved foreigner. 

When, therefore, his son and heir came to him and 
said, 

“ Father, will you not ask the gentleman who mended 
my kite to visit us ? ” 

Mr. Hope was not prepared to give a stout refusal. 


THE CONSERVATIVE A FAIR MAN. I97 

The boy’s ingenuous reasoning which followed perhaps 
did not hasten this relenting. 

“ Because, you know, Nellie Ravenhill will marry the 
gentleman and live in America, and we will all wish to 
visit them next mid-summer.” 

But Mr. Hope answered : 

“ I will think of it, my son ; I will think of it. I think 
that I will learn his lodging-place, and call to thank him 
for mending your kite.” 

“ And, father, will you allow me to go with you ? 
Nellie will tell you where he lodges. It is at the hotel 
in the town.” 

But Ellen had entered in time to hear the last two re- 
marks, and she immediately perceived that Mr. Hope 
was more kindly disposed to Mr. Hill than she had ex- 
pected. Her calm straightforward disposition guided 
her wisely. She said : 

“ Mr. Hope, I have a letter from Mr. Hill, the Ameri- 
can gentleman, to whom I am engaged. He tells me 
that he met you on the Common this morning, and con- 
versed with you. Something was said which made him 
unwilling to come to your house to see me. I am very 
sorry — ” 

“ Never mind, Nellie ; never mind. I will appease the 
gentleman. I will call on him this very day. Do you 
but give me his direction. I was a bit hasty on the 
Common yonder in speaking my mind of the Americans. 
But I’ll have him forgive me.” 

“ Thank you ; thank you,” said Ellen, joyfully. “ I 
knew that I might rely on the generous fairness of my 
countryman.” 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


I98 

“ That you may, Nellie. We are fair men, whether we 
be friends or foes, and yonder American shall not have it 
to say that a true born Englishman was less civil than he. 
Why, by George, do you know the young fellow is as de- 
cent in looks as an Englishman. I thought him an Eng- 
lishman. Yes, by George, an English gentleman.” 

“ You will find him a gentleman, and I am confident 
that you will become firm friends.” 

“ Not too fast, not too fast, Nellie, mind you, I do not 
give my consent to the marriage. We must know much 
more of this young foreigner, before we decide to marry 
him. I do not give my consent.” 

“ Oh ! I do not need that,” said Ellen, with her sweet 
laugh, so that even the choleric little man was not annoyed 
at hearing his authority questioned. 

That very afternoon Mr. Hope accompanied by the 
young Byrchfield called at the hotel at which Lawrence 
Hill had taken rooms, and was fortunate in finding that 
gentleman. 

Mr. Hope extended his hand and said : 

“ Really, Mr. Hill, I am glad to make your acquaint- 
ance, I am quite astonished at myself when I think of the 
words said to you this morning of the Americans, I was 
excited, sir, yes, by George, too much excited, and I wish 
to offer my apology sir, yes sir, my apology.” 

“ O don’t mention it,” said Hill. 

“Yes, but, by George, I will mention it. I would have 
you know, sir, that Englishmen are fair men, and when an 
Englishman has gone too far, has been uncivil or anything 
of that sort, he’ll make you his apology, sir, his frank and 
fair apology.” 


THE CONSERVATIVE A FAIR MAN. 


I99 


Hill returned the Englishman’s grasp cordially, meeting 
him with the sunny open-hearted manner which had al- 
ways won for him the affection of friends and strangers. 

“ I am delighted,” he said, “ Mr. Hope, at this proof of 
English fairness. Your manly virtues have already gained 
my admiration. But I have never before had such excel- 
lent evidence of the true ring of your metal. Be pleased to 
accept my acknowledgement of your honorable conduct.” 

Mr. Hope invited Hill to dine with him, that very day, 
an invitation which our American was very glad to accept. 
Mr. Hope, however, was anxious that this should not be 
taken to mean more than he intend, so he bluntly said : 

“ Mind you, sir, we do not consent to your marriage to 
Nellie. No, sir, we must think more of that. But we 
will be pleased to see you at our family dinner and we will 
show you something of English hospitality.” 

Hill smiled and assured him that he spoke sensibly, as 
became a careful man. 

The young Byrchfield, however, was not equally con- 
servative. He stood by Hill holding his hand, when his 
father rose to take his leave, and said : 

“ I want you to marry Nellie, you know, I’m fond of 
Nellie, and I’m thankful to you for* mending my kite. 
I’m coming to visit you in America next mid-summer, 
Nellie has asked me.” 

Both of the gentlemen laughed, and Hill answered, — 

“ So you shall, my little man, if your father will 
agree.” 

“ No, no,” said Mr. Hope, “ I’ve said too hard things 
against America to be wholly won over in less than four 
and twenty hours.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


MR. HOPE'S JUDICIOUS MANAGEMENT. 

M RS. HOPE was quite fretted when her husband 
conveyed to her the surprising information that 
Mr. Hill, Ellen’s American lover, would dine with them 
that evening. To say nothing of the wonderment occa- 
sioned by Mr. Hope’s consenting to invite such a terrible 
personage to their table, there was the perplexity of know- 
ing how to provide for their questionable guest. Mrs. 
Hope had a faint impression that Americans did not know 
the use of knives and forks, and spoons, that they ate 
ravenously and enormously, and drank copious draughts 
of ice water, that they chewed tobacco constantly and ex- 
pectorated liberally without regard to their surroundings. 
If she had been informed that a South Sea Cannibal 
would take his seat in her quiet family circle, she could 
hardly have been more puzzled and dismayed. 

She sought Ellen to learn from her what preparations 
would be advisable for their visitor. 

“ My dear.” she said, “ is it best to spread the drugget 
on the new carpet in the parlor ? ” 

“ Why, I’m sure, I think that Mr. Hill will use the door 
mat, like other people,” said Ellen a little amused at this 
needless apprehension. 

200 


MR. HOPE’S JUDICIOUS MANAGEMENT. 201 


“ Yes, but they say that the Americans spit on the car- 
pets. I wouldn’t mind so much if he would be careful 
to use the fire-place, but the new carpet will take stain 
readily.” 

Ellen laughed. “ What terrible animal do you think I 
am introducing to you ? I assure you that Mr. Hill will 
not damage your carpet. He will behave like any other 
gentleman and you will be much pleased with him.” 

“ I have ordered two joints and a supply of pounded 
ice,” said Mrs. Hope, 

“ You need make no unusual preparation for him, I’m 
sure,” said Ellen. 

Mrs. Hope asked timidly, “ Do the Americans eat 
soup ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly, when it is set before them. ” 

“ And with a spoon ? ” 

“ Of course, how else ? ” 

“ I didn’t know, you know, but they might have it in 
bowls and drink it as the Scotchmen I saw once in the 
Highlands eat their oatmeal gruel.” 

“ How absurd,” said Ellen. 

It can be readily imagined how pleasantly Mrs. Hope 
was disappointed when the really elegant stranger was 
presented to her. - And when he offered his arm' to lead 
her to the dining-room, it was not easy for her to realize 
that he was not one of her own countrymen. She was 
not thoroughly reassured however, until the conclusion of 
the meal, when if it had not seemed unpatriotic, she 
might have admitted that she had seldom been favored 
with a more agreeable visitor. The ice and the extra 


202 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


joint had not been needed, the carpet was without spot, 
and singular to relate, the time-honored points of table 
manners, which she, as one of the guardians of English 
social conventionalities had held in peculiar reverence 
were observed by this remarkable foreigner, with an easy 
familiarity, as if he had all his life been accustomed to 
them. That one educated outside of the British Islands, 
could conduct himself with such unexceptionable propriety, 
she thought little less than a miracle, and if Lawrence 
Hill had then seen fit to announce himself the possessor 
of supernatural power, she would have implicitly believed 
him. 

Mr. Hope was also charmed with his visitor. If ever 
the boundary lines of nationality disappear it is during a 
pleasant dinner. Lawrence Hill was so well-informed on 
English questions, that he could discuss them with his 
host, and that earnest gentleman frequently so far forgot 
himself as to speak of “ us,” meaning his guest and him- 
self as Englishmen. 

After the dinner the two gentlemen sat with their wine 
and cigars, and Mr. Hope said : 

“ Ton my soul, sir, I must tell you, how hard it is for 
me to believe that you are an American. Are you quite 
certain that you are not an Englishman ? ” 

“ Quite certain,” said Hill smiling, “ my family on both 
sides, my father’s and mother’s, go back to the early set- 
tlement of our country, more than two hundred years ago. 
Not a cross of any other than New England blood in my 
veins. I’m an American of the Americans. Such as I 
am I ought to be an average sample of the sort of men the 
American climate and conditions of life will produce.” 


MR. HOPE’S JUDICIOUS MANAGEMENT. 203 

“ By George, sir, you astonish me. Are there many 
men like you in America — fine men, you know, such men 
as you would naturally put down anywhere as English- 
men ? ” 

Hill laughed, “ There are any number of better men in 
America than I am. I’m only an inferior specimen of 
the men of New England, who have enjoyed a fair 
training.” 

“ Most astonishing ! most astonishing ! ” said Mr. Hope. 
“ And you wish to marry Nellie Ravenhill ? ” 

“Yes, sir, such is my desire.” 

“Very well, sir, I tell you frankly and bluntly, sir, I 
see nothing to prevent it. But, sir, as a gentleman, you 
should afford the young lady — or the young lady’s friends 
— time to learn of your family and condition in your own 
country. Your appearance and manners are so remark- 
able, sir, I tell you frankly, that I would wish proof that 
you are really an American. No offence, sir. By George 
I’m an out and out sort of a man, but you’ll find me fair, 
sir.” 

“ You are entirely in the right Mr. Hope,” said Hill 
seriously, “ I desire nothing more than you propose. You 
will greatly oblige me if you will without delay arrange to 
have the proper inquiries made in America, concerning 
my fortune, my family and my personal character. I will 
wait the answer to those inquiries before urging my mar- 
riage with Miss Ravenhill.” 

“ Very well, sir, I will set about this business on the 
morrow.” 

What could be more natural than that the wise Mr. 
Hope, proud of his success of a manager of affairs, should 


204 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


write at the earliest opportunity to Mr. Cripps, and ex- 
plain the important arrangements which he had made ? 
In this letter he exhibited himself as a wily and prudent 
negotiator, who had seen the uselessness of violently op- 
posing the plans of the two young people, and had 
therefore induced one- of them to promise to wait until 
accurate information concerning himself could be ob- 
tained from America. So much he wrote, prompted by 
vanity and a desire to be esteemed sagacious, and then 
like most pompous people of narrow experience, he was 
willing to let some one else finish his work : he therefore 
suggested that Mr. Cripps should make these inquiries 
concerning Mr. Hill. Having posted this letter, Mr. 
Hope rested with self congratulations from his labors. 

We can imagine the pleasant thoughts which this letter 
suggested to Mr. Thomas Cripps. He saw a fine oppor- 
tunity for the exercise of his peculiar ability. He wrote 
to Mr. Hope at once, thanking him for the judicious 
manner in which he had managed this difficult affair, 
promising to have the desired inquiries set on foot with- 
out delay, and counselling him to look to it that the 
young people played him no tricks meanwhile. He could 
not deny himself the luxury of adding, that as he ex- 
pected nothing but unfavorable accounts of Mr. Hill 
from his native land, he suggested that his friend Hope 
should wisely influence Ellen, so that she would recover 
from her infatuation for the American, when his true 
character should be made known. 

Mr. Hope having written to Mr. Cripps and received 
his reply, carried his diplomacy one step further. He 
was considerably influenced by Cripps’ insinuation that 


MR. HOPE’S JUDICIOUS MANAGEMENT. 205 

the accounts of Hill when received from America, would 
not be favorable. He was disposed to credit his own 
shrewdness with the discovery, that as Hill did not cor- 
respond to his ideal American, therefore he must be 
making false representations concerning himself. He 
determined to give Ellen a hint of his wise suspi- 
cions — to give to her simply a hint and thus to break 
gently to her the impending disgrace of her lover. He 
would also obtain a promise from her to wait the ex- 
pected information, and to be governed by its character ; 
for if Hill were the sly rogue he imagined him to be, 
scheming to marry an unprotected heiress, he would 
hasfen matters, and by elopement or other secret device, 
anticipate his certain exposure. 

So Mr. Hope said to Ellen, when he sat alone with 
her in his library, — 

“ Nellie, yonder American lover of yours has given me 
a promise that he’ll not marry you, until we can learn 
from his country, that he speaks the truth regarding 
himself." 

“ I’ll be bound for him that he’ll keep his word,” said 
Ellen calmly. 

“ And do you promise the same — that you’ll also abide 
the news from America ? ” 

“ Indeed I do, sir. I could not be married alone, you 
know.” 

“ But say that the news is not favorable, will you then 
resign him altogether ? ” 

“ Ah ! but it will be favorable.” 

“ That’s not certain,” said Mr. Hope, with the air of a 
soothsayer, “ the youth has good manners. He is clever, 


20 6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


and it is not strange that you fancy him. But I fear he 
is far too clever to be an American. If it prove that he 
is deceiving us, will you discard him ? ” 

“ I would discard him, though it would break my 
heart,” Ellen replied, her sweet voice shaking with sud- 
den feeling. 

“ By George, we must be prepared for the worst, you 
know. Best to break misfortunes gently, you know. 
That’s my rule.” 

“ But I have not the slightest fear, Mr. Hope. Mr. 
Hill is everything he has represented himself to be. I 
know this past all question.” 

“ But I have your promise that you will do nothing 
hasty. Wait for news from America.” 

“ I will wait. We both will wait with the fullest confi- 
dence.” 

“ I have written to Mr. Cripps, and he will make the 
inquiries. We will learn by this day month.” 

“Will Mr. Cripps make the inquiries?” asked Ellen 
slowly. 

“ Yes, I have his letter. He will make the inquiries.” 

Mr. Hope turned to his writing-table, and after a long 
silence, Ellen said, — 

“ I wish to see the solicitors who have had my inherit- 
ance in charge. Is it proper that I should call upon 
them ? ” 

“ Yes, yes. But you may send and one of the firm will 
call on you here.” 

“ I will do so,” said Ellen, meditatively. “ It is proper 
to tell one’s secrets to one’s solicitors, is it not ? ” 


MR. HOPE’S JUDICIOUS MANAGEMENT. 207 


“ Certainly, certainly, business secrets you know,” re- 
plied Mr. Hope, fixing his attention on his writing. 

Miss Ravenhill had a long interview with her solicitor, 
in which she learned that the care of money and invest- 
ments was very perplexing. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 

I N an unfashionable quarter of London, one of those 
parts of the great city which a few years ago were 
suburbs, but which the chain of the underground railway 
has embraced and made to throb with the busy life of the 
centre, Mr. Hannibal Ogle had hidden himself and his 
broken-hearted wife. In obscure lodgings on a small 
street, where the eyes of his sight-seeing countrymen 
would never by chance discover him, he sought to bury 
his disgrace. 

His first wish, after he had made a confession of his 
crime and received a promise of immunity, had been to 
return to America and to his old habits and haunts. But 
the impossibility of hiding his shame from his old ac- 
quaintances slowly established itself in his melancholy 
thoughts. The dread of the sneers of his former neigh- 
bors, of the cold neglect of those who had courted him, 
became more formidable than the forlorn prospect of a 
solitary existence among strangers. Mrs. Ogle’s tears 
started afresh at the mention of home. She was one of 
those sympathetic persons who put themselves completely 
in the place of those with whom they are intimately asso- 
ciated. She felt as guilty as her husband, and assumed 
that she must suffer the punishment of his transgression, 
208 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 20Q 

without a thought that she was thereby suffering in- 
justice. Her manner showed as openly as his the con- 
sciousness of crime. She shrank as much as he from 
association with mankind. The inquiring looks of old 
acquaintances seemed to her as dreadful as to him. She 
knew that she could never endure a return to America. 
She would have sunk under the attempt to encounter any 
member of the social circle which had so lately treated 
her with flattering respect. She wished only to shield 
herself from the eyes and questions of the world in the 
lonesome neglect of a foreign land. 

Ketchum discovered this wretched pair and made 
them frequent visits. His business was completed, but 
still he remained in London. His sole object seemed to 
be to bring back these victims of his professional ability 
to an enjoyment of life. He tried to tempt them to see 
the sights of England, to make excursions with him to 
parks and palaces, or to divert themselves with some of 
the many amusements which the great capital provides. 
But the fear of meeting a familiar face constantly 
thwarted his ingenious projects. They let him see that 
even his friendly intentions were unwelcome. They 
wished to be alone and forgotten. 

But Ketchum would not be rebuffed. He talked 
plainly to them — sometimes to both together, sometimes 
to Mrs. Ogle alone. He argued that all possible restitu- 
tion and reparation had been made by Mr. Ogle for his 
fault, that no man could now reproach him or sneer at 
him, that the world was full of kind-hearted folk who 
would be glad to associate with them and make life 
cheerful. These reasons were received by Mrs. Ogle in 


210 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


silent, nerveless despair, by Mrs. Ogle with copious 
tears. 

One day while Ketchum, working new schemes for 
dissipating this hopeless depression, was mounting the 
stairs to their lodging, he heard a familiar voice through 
the open door. 

“You are a devilish fine woman, Madame, and Thomas 
Cripps wishes to be of service to you. Ogle has no 
money, Ogle will not long have money to pay for these 
mean lodgings. Then, madam, you will wish for a 
friend. Thomas Cripps will be your friend. Thomas 
Cripps will give you money if you leave Ogle.” 

Mrs. Ogle’s voice trembled with indignation and ex- 
citement. 

“ I have opened the door, Mr. Cripps. Will you not 
go ? Will you oblige me to seek protection from the 
London police ? ” 

Ketchum’s hand wound itself very firmly on Mr. Cripp’s 
collar, and Mr. Cripps in great surprise ejaculated, “ Eh !” 
and found himself unable to turn his body. He turned 
his head, however, and saw the slouched hat and yellow 
beard of the American. Mr. Cripps began to struggle, 
but Ketchum inserted his other hand over the English- 
man’s collar, and then began a violent shaking. 

When Ketchum had expressed his feelings in this ener- 
getic manner for a minute or so, the simple furniture of 
the room was somewhat damaged and upset. Mrs. Ogle 
stood pale and trembling in a corner, and Mr. Cripps lay 
on the floor, very red in the face from the choking he 
had received, and very much exhausted by the involun- 
tary exercise. Ketchum was out of breath, but he took 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 21 1 


a chair, sat down by Mr. Cripps’ head, and leaning his 
elbows on his knees, looked into his adversary’s face. 

Mr. Cripps made an effort to raise himself, but Ketchum 
put his outstretched fingers on his breast, and pushed him 
down. 

“ Lie still awhile ; I want to talk to you,” said Ketchum. 

The prostrate man glowered at him, and after a few 
moment’s of cool contemplation, Ketchum began : 

“You’re, a sweet scented pill, you are. Mighty few 
scoundrelly dodges that you are not up to. Do you 
know what would happen to a man in some parts of my 
country if he insulted a lady, as I just caught you doing ? 
He would have the whole top of his head blown off, and 
no grand jury would dare to indict the fellow that did it. 
Now you and I must understand one another. It has 
been my luck to block several of your infernal games. 
In fact I have done but little else since I’ve been in Eng- 
land but head you off in your villainies. I’m tired of 
this work. As an occupation it is becoming monotonous. 
I came to Europe for a vacation ; I wish to enjoy myself. 
You are interfering with my plans of relaxation, and for- 
cing me to attend to business. Now I want you to give 
me a rest. If you must play the devil, take yourself and 
your devilish designs out of my way. Let me and my 
friends alone.” 

Mr. Cripps began to mutter in an ugly tone, and made 
another effort to rise from his humiliating position, but 
Ketchum pressed him down, and continued : 

“ I’ve treated you pretty generously so far. I might 
have had you locked up in a British dungeon. I might 
have had you sent to America under the extradition laws 


212 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


for trial in Chicago. But I’ve let you off. Now you will 
please take warning. I have it still in my power to make 
you very uncomfortable, and if you trouble my friends 
hereafter, or cross my path in any way, I’ll see that you 
are punished for some of your criminal transactions to 
the full extent of the law. This lady is under my pro- 
tection. Her husband has been ruined by your rascality. 
You have done her enough harm, and if I hear of your 
persecuting or insulting her hereafter, I’ll — By the 
Lord, I’ll flog you until you bear a striking resemblance 
to the star spangled banner. Now you may go.” 

Ketchum arose and stood aside. Mr. Cripps gathered 
himself together, and got upon his feet, swearing a stream 
of meaningless oaths, and glaring at Ketchum. 

“ Now stop your swearing, and clear out,” said the 
American, pointing to the door. 

“ You shall pay for this, sir,” exclaimed Cripps, shak- 
ing with rage. “ I have not done with you and your 
sneaking countryman. You shall learn that there is law 
in England to protect Englishmen and English women too.” 

“ Get out of this,” thundered Ketchum, “ or I’ll kick 
you into the street.” 

Mr. Cripps went out of the open door, and stumbled 
down the stairs, muttering and swearing. Ketchum closed 
the door behind him. 

Ketchum, in his deliberate manner, began to replace 
the furniture in its proper positions. Mrs. Ogle had 
dropped into a chair. She looked frightened, and the 
tears poured down her pale cheeks. Crying was her 
accustomed employment in these sad days, but she now 
wept hysterically from excitement. 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 213 

“ Don’t cry,” said Ketchum. “ He cannot harm you. 
He’ll not dare to come here again. I’ll watch him. I’ll 
protect you. Don’t cry. Crying is no use.” 

“ Oh ! Mr. Ketchum ; I wish I were dead. I wish I 
were hidden away from all the world. I wish I were 
somewhere where no one could see me, where I would 
never meet a single person whom I have ever known.” 

“ It is no use wishing such things,” said Ketchum^ 
soothingly. “ You’ll be happy yet. Put a brave face on 
the matter. You deserve to be happy. Cripps and all 
the Englishmen in England cannot do you harm. I’ll 
take care of you.” 

Ketchum felt an impulse of taking more tender means 
of calming this little woman. He wished to assure her 
that he would make it the business of his life to keep her 
from all insult and danger. But he wisely struggled with 
himself, and took a seat at a considerable distance from 
her. Whether she was* conscious of this feeling on his 
part, no one can tell, but two bright red spots appeared 
on her white cheeks, and she seemed to flutter with a new 
agitation. The recognition of the chivalric devotion of 
an honorable man must influence a woman pleasantly, 
even amidst the most profound grief. Mrs. Ogle looked for 
the moment almost coquettishly pretty through her tears- 

Ketchum asked in matter-of-fact tone, “ Where is Mr- 
Ogle?” 

“ He has gone for a walk. Poor man ! He is much 
broken in health. He will return shortly.” 

Ketchum fidgeted on his chair, asking several unim- 
portant questions, and receiving simple answers. At 
length he said : 


214 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN 


“ I can’t let this thing go on any longer in this way. 
I’m responsible for all your trouble in a certain sense, 
and I’m going to see you made as comfortable as circum- 
stances will permit. I’m your countryman, and I feel as 
if you were my sister or second cousin, or something of 
that sort. Now can’t you forget that I have been the 
counsel for the prosecution, and let me be a brother to 
you ? I’ll acknowledge that I heartily regret acting in 
the case against Mr. Ogle. If I could put myself back 
to the beginning of it, knowing the misery which my 
actions would cause you, I would refuse absolutely to 
move in the matter.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Ketchum, you are not to blame. You have 
done your duty, I suppose. I am nothing to you. You 
must go away and forget me.” 

She said this with a fresh flood of tears. “ I deserve 
to be wretched and friendless. I wish to be wretohed, 
and to be left to myself.” 

“You deserve to be the happiest woman on earth,” 
replied Ketchum, earnestly. 

Mas. Ogle almost smiled through her tears, and said, 
archly : 

“ I never imagined before how much misery an able 
lawyer must cause.” 

“ I’ll not appear in another case unless you forgive 
me.” 

“ Oh, yes you will. You will go back to America, and 
sue people, and send them to prison, and gain a great 
reputation. And everybody will say, what a smart man 
you are, and nobody will think of the poor folks you have 
ruined.” 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 21 5 

“ Indeed, Mrs. Ogle, I will not return to America un- 
til I see you once more the pretty, jolly little woman you 
were when I first knew you — when I was first impelled 
by your charming attractiveness to be so bold as to make 
your acquaintance.” 

Mrs. Ogle actually smiled now, and Ketchum con- 
tinued : 

“ If I could have foreseen then that I was to bring 
grief and misfortune to you I would have thrown myself 
overboard in mid-ocean.” 

Mrs. Ogle was very nearly vivacious when she an- 
swered : 

“ Oh, Mr. Ketchum ; what a man you are ! You 
would have done nothing of the kind. I’d rather suffer 
ever so much than have any one do so rash an act.” 

“ You must cheer up then,” said Ketchum, “ and smile 
and look pretty again, or 1 shall be driven to throw my- 
self into the sea on my return voyage, from remorse. It 
is enough to make a man destroy himself to see you cry- 
ing yourself to death.” 

“Well, if you really care for it as much as that — but I 
don’t believe you. You’re a humbug. Who ever heard 
of a tender-hearted lawyer ? ” 

But she acted as if she wished to believe him, and 
Ketchum felt himself justified and rewarded for his ex- 
travagant imaginings. 

“Forgive me then,” he said, “let bygones be bygones. 
Let us put our heads together and contrive how we can 1 
make the best of circumstances as they are.” 

“ I’ll forgive you,” she said with surprising gayety in 
her voice, “ a woman’s part is to forgive, and if a man — 


2x6 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


really — you know — actually cares — that is, if she actually 
cares to have him care — whether she is happy or not, 
she’ll believe him if he is ever so absurd about it, and 
forgive him very easily if he’s been ever so cruel and sel- 
fish.” 

“ Exactly,” said Ketchum, thrusting out his chin and 
pulling his yellow tuft in his familiar fashion. He was 
much gratified that he had gained ground and now saw a 
prospect of restoring his countrywoman to cheerfulness 
and an enjoyment of life. He did not trouble himself 
with the consideration that the ground on which he now 
stood was much more slippery and dangerous to him, 
than that which he had left. He was happy in his suc- 
cess, and eager to put in practice all the most obvious 
devices for dispelling melancholy and distracting troubled 
thoughts. 

Mr. Ogle came in slowly and perhaps his face wore an 
added shade of gloom, when he observed the unusual 
animation of his wife’s expression. A chance acquaint- 
ance who would have supposed him an invalid when 
leaving the American shore, would now think him just 
hanging on the verge of the grave. His form was bent, 
his step shuffling and tottering. He lowered himself 
into his chair with great care and deliberation and sat in 
a heap, as one lacking both moral and physical nerve. 

Ketchum was troubled with remorse in the presence of 
the wrecked financier. A successful lawyer should al- 
ways avoid the knowledge of those who have been the 
opposing parties to his suits. Otherwise he may be 
driven by ridiculous human sympathy into regrets that 
he argued so earnestly and ingeniously, perhaps even 


TWO PROTECTORS OF A WEEPING WOMAN. 21 J 

into doubts of his own infallibility — doubts, which all 
must agree, would totally ruin his usefulness in the pro- 
fession. 

And yet had Ketchum that moment had it in his 
power to restore to Mr. Ogle his fortune and reputation, 
and to give him health and the prospect of a long l?fe, 
would he have been under strong temptations to with- 
hold these blessings ? Was there a certain joy which 
could never be confessed, weighing with the pity in 
Ketchum’s soul, and refusing to wish his work undone ? 
At all events he was more interested in bringing a smile 
on Mrs. Ogle’s face than in contriving how strength 
might be restored to Mr. Ogle’s shaking limbs. But he 
comforted Mr. Ogle with words, as best he could, and 
the old and feeble man did not resent his encouragement. 

It came about very soon that Ketchum was tacitly 
recognized as the protector of this helpless pair. He 
was regular and unremitting in his attentions. He de- 
vised amusements for them and led them out to make 
excursions. He gave them dinners in pleasant restau- 
rants and treated them to drives in shady suburbs. And 
it even might be suspected that he kept annoying duns 
from their door by paying occasional bills. He was a 
friend indeed. 

But, day by day, while Mrs. Ogle became more cheer- 
ful, her husband became weaker and more melancholy. 
Mr. Ogle was dying of home sickness, — the longing for a 
home to which he would never dare return. 


CHAPTER XLV. 


THOMAS CRIPPS* LAST CARD. 

T HE weeks passed pleasantly in Lancashire. Law- 
rence Hill was well fitted to the duties of life in a 
country town, whether in England or America. He en- 
dured croquet-parties with equanimity. He was serene 
at informal lunches. He proved a most reliable man at 
dinners. He talked well with the gentlemen. The rec- 
tor and the physician had no hesitation in speaking ap- 
provingly of him. The family solicitor could say no 
worse than that he was a clever young man. The quiet 
young gentleman, whose chief claim to interest consisted 
in the fact that only three lives intervened between him 
and an old estate and title of nobility, distinguished him 
by special attention. Even the two or three young men 
of leisure and fortune, the men whom the good people of 
St. Helen’s thought desirable matches for their numerous 
daughters, and to this laudable end constantly led into 
temptation — the favored men on whom all the local 
beauties lavished their smiles, accepted the American as 
a pleasant acquaintance with whom they were willing to 
share their homes. 

Mr. Hope was very careful to impress it on Mrs. Hope, 
that nothing should be said to their friends of any special 
attachment between Ellen Ravenhill and Mr. Hill, and 
Mrs. Hope solemnly asserted that neither she nor her 
218 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 


219 


daughters had ever given anyone the slightest reason for 
conjecturing such an attachment. But many-tongued 
gossip had somehow busied .itself in spreading this report, 
and in spite of the judicious disclaimers of Mr. Hope 
and his dutiful family, it was currently conceded that the 
polite American was favoring St. Helen’s with his pres- 
ence solely with the purpose of marrying the amiable 
English girl whose affection had drawn him thither. 
The real state of affairs was not known ; but these two 
young persons were made the subjects of constant specu- 
lation and many pleasant stories. 

As the days went by and Mr. Hope became more ac- 
customed to Hill’s society, he involuntarily treated him 
with greater confidence. He found it necessary occa- 
sionally to check his good nature and to .recollect that 
the American was not yet free from the suspicion of un- 
worthiness. The inquiries to be made in America might 
be answered unfavorably. He came to hope for good 
news in spite of Thomas Cripps’ forboding caution ; but 
he wisely held his opinion in reserve and waited. 

Hill and Ellen in calm confidence in themselves and 
each other looked forward to a happy future. They 
were troubled by no doubts and feared no dangers. 

At length Mr. Thomas Cripps found time to pay a 
visit to St. Helen’s. His impassive face was seen at 
Mr. Hope’s door, and his deliberate step was heard in 
Mr. Hope’s hallway. His manner was dry and business- 
like. He greeted Mr. Hope with the words of ancient 
friendship, but on neither side was a cordial joy at the 
meeting. 

Mr. Cripps soon came to the subject of his visit. 


220 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ How is this miserable affair of Ellen’s ? Has that 
rascally Yankee given you much of his company ?” 

“ Now — now — my dear sir, what news do you bring 
from America ? I forced them both to promise that 
they would abide the result of the inquiries. Placed 
them on their honor, you know. Was not that good 
management ? ” 

“ That was doubtless the best we could do to save 
Ellen’s disgrace. But I hoped by this, that she would be 
well over her silly fancy.” 

“ No, no,” said Mr. Hope, “ I would say that she were 
better pleased with him now than formerly. But she will 
hear reason. She will hear reason, I promise you. What 
is your news ? ” 

“ I am not informed. I have purposely brought the 
letter to my bankers answering the inquiries, with me, 
unopened. My bankers wrote to their correspondents in 
New York, and this is their reply.” 

“ That is a wise precaution, ah ha ! we will have Nellie 
herself break the seal,” said Mr. Hope with the air of a 
shrewd conspirator. 

“ Well devised, Mr. Hope,” answered Cripps, and I 
would suggest that your family be present as witnesses, 
and also if it meets your approval that this intriguing 
foreigner himself be requested to attend.” 

“ I fully agree,” answered Mr. Hope. “ The proceed- 
ing shall be fair, and he shall have every reason to be 
satisfied with his usage.” 

“ And Mr. Hope, I know as a friend of Ellen’s family 
and as an Englishman, will consent to be spokesman at 
this interview.” 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 221 

“ Certainly, sir. As a friend of the family and an En- 
glishman I will do my duty.” 

“ It might be my place,” said Cripps deprecatingly, 
“ but the foreigner has caused Ellen to dislike me, I fear. 
You, sir, can manage this delicate business without preju- 
dice.” 

“ Of course, of course,” answered the self-satisfied 
Mr. Hope. ‘‘You may leave it to me. Byrchfield Hope 
never deserts a friend.” 

“ I suggest if it meets your approval that you request 
both Ellen and the foreigner to renew promise before 
witnesses, before this paper is unsealed, that they will 
abide its contents. If it gives good account of the 
American, that is, shows him wealthy and a man of 
honor, we agree that we’ll not oppose his marrying Ellen. 
But if it shows him a false and penniless fellow, Ellen 
shall agree that she’ll not speak to him more.” 

“ Ah ! my dear sir. Exactly the proceeding I shall 
adopt. A most wise and fair proceeding. But, Cripps, I 
say, do you know the contents of this envelope ? ” 

“ On my honor,” said the ingenious Cripps, “ I do not. 
I am willing to trust all to the event. I asked that the 
letter be handed me by my bankers, sealed as you see it.” 

On the bright August afternoon the solemn company 
were assembled in Mr. Hope’s library. Mrs. Hope and 
her three daughters sat soberly impressed with the gravity 
of the occasion. Mr. Hope wearing an air of importance 
was at his writing table, and Mr. Cripps at his right hand. 
Hill stood at the open window while Ellen with an ex- 
pression of sweet confident expectation was seated near him. 


222 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


Mr. Hope cleared his throat, took the banker’s letter 
from the table before him, and began his speech. 

“ I hold in my hand a letter addressed to the well-known 
bankers, Brooks & Co., of London, by their correspond- 
ents in New York, United States of America. This letter 
is the answer to inquiries made at my suggestion, concern- 
ing the fortune and standing in his own country of Mr. 
Lawrence Hill. This letter is sealed with the seal of 
Brooks & Co. It was delivered to Mr. Cripps sealed, and 
he has assured me, on his honor as an Englishman, that he 
does not know its contents.” 

Mr. Hope paused to note the effect of his well chosen 
words upon his audience, and being satisfied that all were 
paying close attention, he proceeded, — 

“ I shall ask Miss Ellen Ravenhill to break this seal 
and read this letter. But first I shall ask her to renew to 
me in the presence of these witnesses her promise given 
some time since, that if this letter contains statements un- 
favorable to Mr. Hill that she will refuse to marry him, 
and I shall ask Mr. Hill, as an honorable gentlemen, if 
these statements are unfavorable to withdraw his suit for 
Miss Ravenhill’s hand.” 

Hill was gazing intently at the letter and at Thomas 
Cripps. The latter looked like an uninterested spectator. 
Hill began to speak, but Mr. Hope, with a manner of 
great consequence waved his hand. 

“ If you will allow me to conclude, sir, speaking for 
Mr. Thomas Cripps, for myself and all the friends of Miss 
Ravenhill, I wish to add that if this document contains 
statements favorable to Mr. Hill, we will withdraw 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 


223 


all objections to his marriage with the young lady in 
question. Do you agree with me Mr. Cripps.” 

Mr. Cripps nodded carelessly. 

Hill began again to speak, but Ellen’s -well modulated 
voice forestalled him. 

“ If you please, Mr. Hope, I think that I alone should 
answer you, if Mr. Hill will permit me. There can be 
but one truth concerning one matter, but there can be 
many falsehoods. I will abide by the truth concerning 
Mr. Hill, I will break the seal, and if the letter tells the 
truth, we will be governed by it according as you have 
said,” 

“ Of course it tells the truth,” said Mr. Cripps shortly, 
“ Brooks & Co. are not liars, and have no liars as corre- 
spondents, Mr. Hope will say so much.” 

“ Why Nellie, the letter contains the truth to be sure,” 
said Mr. Hope in his ordinary tone. 

“ Of that we shall all be judges.” she answered melodi- 
ously, “ I will break the seal, if you please, and read the 
letter.” 

Mr. Cripps joggled Mr. Hope’s elbow, and said a few 
words to him in a low tone. 

“ Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Hope, “ Mr. Hill do we 
have your promise.” 

“ I will abide by Miss Ravenhill’s decision. My fate is 
already in her hands. I am content to leave it there.” 

She gave him a delightful look and took the important 
letter from Mr. Hope’s hand. She tranquilly opened the 
envelope. She glanced over it and suddenly became 
deathly pale. Cripps watched her with apparent uncon- 
cern, she lay back in her chair, the letter fell into her 


224 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


lap. Hill bent over her to take the letter, but Cripps was 
too quick for him, and snatched it away. 

“ You are overtaken at last, my fine fellow,” he said 
doggedly, “ this is too precious a document for your 
hands. Mr. Hope shall read it since the young lady de- 
clines.” 

“ In Heaven’s name what does it say ? ” exclaimed 
Hill. 

“ Oh ! do not read it, I know it that is false,” said Ellen 
faintly. 

The ladies gathered around Ellen and fanned her, and 
offered her wine. 

Mr. Hope stood up and took the letter and read it to 
himself. 

“ Read it aloud, read it aloud,” said Cripps. 

Hill stood immovably staring at the letter. 

Mr. Hope read : 

“ The person concerning whom you inquire, called 
Lawrence Hill, is well-known in the town you mention. 
He is without social or financial standing at home, and is 
a dangerous adventurer abroad. He is said to have two 
or more wives, or women who should be his wives, in dif- 
ferent parts of this country.” 

“ Great Scott,” said a voice at the open door. “ There’s 
what you might call a well defined libel, — worth, at least, 
one hundred thousand dollars before any jury.” 

“ The devil ! ” muttered Mr. Cripps. 

The momentary horror and astonishment which had 
taken possession of Lawrence Hill on hearing such a 
character attached to his name gave place to confidence 
in his vindication when he saw Ketchum advancing into 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 225 

the room. With Ketchum came Miss Ravenhill’s solici- 
tor. 

Mr. Hope without noticing the new comers, turned to 
Hill and in great excitement exclaimed, — 

“ You Americans are all swindling scoundrels. I have 
said so always. How dare you, sir, show your face among 
honest men ! ” 

“ Let me implore you, Mr. Hope, to be considerate. 
You may in your haste say that which you will regret. 
This which you have read is a monstrous falsehood, how 
or why concocted, I cannot conjecture. But I think that 
these gentlemen who have just come in can probably give 
you some explanation.’' 

“ It is one of Cripps’ tricks,” said Ketchum advancing 
to Mr. Hope. 

“ And who are you, sir,” said Mr. Hope, angry and 
surprised at being brought face to face in his own house 
with the very form and habit which he had detested as 
American. 

“ My friend here, a solicitor well known to you, can 
satisfy you as to who and what I am. I am an American 
lawyer, Reuben Ketchum by name, and I have this cable 
dispatch to Brooks & Co., of London, from the gentlemen 
whose letter concerning my friend Hill you have just 
read.” 

“ What, what ! ” exclaimed Cripps, reaching forward to 
take the paper which Ketchum extended. 

“ Not so fast, Mr. Cripps,” said Hill interposing, 
“ this is too valuable a paper to be tru^ed in your hands.” 

Mr. Hope read the telegram, while Ellen half rose lis- 
tening intently. 


226 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

“ We were misinformed as to Lawrence Hill. Retract 
our letter. He has excellent standing social and financial.” 

Ellen turned steadily, smiling like the sunshine, and 
stepped unhurriedly towards her lover. He received her 
with the manly tenderness of an Apollo, and bending to 
her upturned face, kissed her sweet lips. 

“ I am not ashamed to kiss you before witnesses,” she 
said, “ I did not doubt you for an instant.” 

“ You are an incomparable woman,” Hill answered in a 
low voice. 

Mrs. Hope and her daughters were weeping and applied 
their fluttering handkerchiefs to their eyes. 

“ Upon my soul ! ’pon my soul !” exclaimed Mr. Hope 
stepping around in excitement. 

“ Have you a good, stout hired man about the premises, 
sir ! ” asked Ketchum. 

“ Eh ! ” said Mr. Hope. 

“ If so,” said Ketchum, “ I suggest that he be called in 
to kick this infernal scalawag. He is too mean to be 
kicked by a gentleman.” 

Mr. Cripps sat neither crestfallen nor agitated. He 
said calmly, — 

“ When you think of this matter seriously, Mr. Hope, 
you will perceive that we have been made victims of a Yan- 
kee trick. A telegram can be easily forged. We are not 
silly women, but sensible Englishmen. We cannot be im- 
posed upon by a sharp American scoundrel.” 

“ Ton my soul, sir,” said Mr. Hope, “ you are right, 
We cannot be imposed upon. We must have proof. We 
insist upon proof.” 

The solicitor came forward and held up his hand to 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 


227 

implore attention. The company became silent, and he 
solemnly unfolded a document and began to speak. 

“ If I may be pardoned for presenting myself uninvited 
in a gentleman’s house, I will proceed to state accurately 
the points in this case as I understand it. Have I your 
permission Mr. Hope ? ” 

“ You have, sir,” said Mr. Hope, quickly. 

“ The question which you are considering is, I imagine, 
to state it briefly, does, or does not, Mr. Lawrence Hill, 
of the United States of America, enjoy in his own coun- 
try such social position and such comfortable fortune as 
constitutes him a worthy suitor for Miss Ravenhill’s 
hand ? Mr. Hill, as I am informed, has made certain 
statements, or has allowed certain statements to be made 
concerning his social position and his fortune. The ques- 
tion then arises, if I perceive the point of the case cor- 
rectly, are, or are not, these statements verified by com- 
petent evidence. We have now before us two pieces of 
writing, one a letter, another a telegram, purporting to 
emanate from the same firm of bankers in New York, 
and both addressed to the highly respected house of 
Brooks & Co., of London. Doubts have been suggested 
as to the genuineness of the telegram, but I pass this by 
as matter to be hereafter considered. The genuineness 
of the telegram can be readily ascertained, as it not only 
retracts all the contents of the letter, on the ground of 
misinformation, but positively affirms the excellence of 
Mr. Hill’s social and financial standing. He is at least 
entitled to a suspension of judgment until all question of 
the authenticity of the telegram can be completely an- 
swered. Do you follow me, Mr. Hope ? ” 


228 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


By George, sir, I think I make out your meaning. 
The balance of proof, as you lawyers say, is in favor of 
the American.” 

“ Precisely, sir.” 

“ Cripps, can you show this writing to be a forgery ? ” 

“ No doubt,” answered the dogged Cripps ; “ or the 
product of some American trickery.” 

“If you will indulge me for a few moments more,” 
said the solicitor, “ I will offer in evidence another piece 
of writing. Its genuineness can hardly be questioned, 
as it bears the signature of Her Majesty’s Consul-General 
at New York, and came addressed to me in the post. By 
your leave I will read it.” 

There was a general movement of intense interest. 
Ellen beamed divinely on Lawrence Hill, and Ketchum 
pulled his beard and kept his cool eyes on Thomas 
Cripps. That remarkable man did not change counte- 
nance. 

The solicitor read : 

“ I have given special attention to the inquiries as to 
the character and fortune of Mr. Lawrence Hill, and I 
take pleasure in informing you that he is spoken of in 
the highest terms by those who know him. Some of my 
informants are my own personal friends, and have known 
Mr. Hill from his childhood. Mr. Hill is spoken of by 
his associates as possessing promising abilities. He in- 
herited from a distinguished father a reasonable fortune, 
which he has prudently preserved.” 

The solicitor raised his eyes from the paper, and glanced 
at the company. 

Mr. Cripps asked in an unruffled, business-like voice : 


THOMAS CRIPPS’ LAST CARD. 229 

“ At whose request did you address the Consul at New 
York ? ” 

“ I think that I commit no breach of professional 
duty,” answered the solicitor, “ in informing you that I 
addressed the Consul-general at the request of my client, 
Miss Ravenhill.” 

“Nellie?” asked Mr. Hope. 

“ Ellen ! ” exclaimed Hill, as if he would reproach her. 

“ Yes, dear,” she answered. “ Not that I doubted for 
a moment. But — but, I feared something might go wrong 
with Mr. Cripps’ inquiries.” 

Mr. Cripps rose deliberately, and remarked quietly, as 
if he were the only righteous person present : 

“ I see a conspiracy here, and my step-daughter is 
deeply engaged in it. I have done my duty by her, and 
tried to protect her from her plotting Yankee suitor. I 
now wash my hands of the whole matter, and leave her 
to the disgrace she seeks to bring upon herself.” 

He stepped towards the door. 

“ I will also take leave,” said the solicitor, “as I have 
a little matter of business to discuss with Mr. Cripps.” 

Mr. Hope then offered his frank apology to Mr. Hill 
for all his hasty words against Americans, and he con- 
sented to shake hands with Ketchum, and to converse 
with him a short time, until that typical American es- 
caped from the grateful thanks of Ellen and Hill, and 
departed, not without certain designs upon the freedom 
of Thomas Cripps. 

There was a most happy family dinner that evening at 
the Hope’s, and it was openly discussed as to which day 
should be fixed on for the wedding. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


KETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPE’S. 

T HE following morning Miss Ravenhill’s solicitor 
sought an interview with his fair client. It was 
a long interview, and Mr. Hill calling meanwhile, was 
requested to wait, somewhat to his surprise. At length 
the man of law took his leave, and Ellen came to her 
lover. She was unusually grave, and he at once begged 
her to tell to him the matter which plainly troubled her. 

She said, “ I can keep nothing from you, although I 
am deeply ashamed of myself and my countryman, on 
account of what I shall tell you. Indeed it is your right 
to know, and I am obliged to tell it you. It is bad news. 
Mayhap it will cause you to leave me.” 

The tears gathered in her eyes, and he hurriedly as- 
sured her, in the tenderest manner, that no news could 
have this bad effect. 

“ My friends,” she said, “ have made much ado about 
my marrying because I was supposed to have inherited 
property. You have had this kept constantly before you 
by my prudent countrymen. What would you say now 
if I should prove the penniless adventurer ? Would you 
discard me?” 

“ My darling, I want you. You are more precious to 
me than the wealth of England.” 

230 


KETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPES’. 23 1 

“ But this is very serious,” she answered. “ My sol- 
icitor tells me that the stocks in which my fortune was 
invested cannot be found ; that Mr. Cripps, in whose 
keeping they were, cannot produce them. He says that 
he has unaccountably lost or mislaid them.” 

“ My dear Ellen, do not let that thought trouble you. 
The loss of all the stocks in the world should not disturb 
you for a moment. I loved you without asking whether 
you were an heiress or not. I shall love you more than 
ever if I find you are without a penny.” 

“ You are the noblest of men,” she answered, regarding 
him with adoring eyes. She yielded to his embrace in 
silent satisfaction, but suddenly recovering herself, she 
said : 

“ You are now my lord and master, and you should 
advise me. My solicitor wishes me to cause the arrest 
of Mr. Cripps for misuse of my stocks.” 

“ This is indeed an important question.” 

“ Yes ; it is very perplexing. By arresting him I may 
recover part of my property — so my solicitor says. But 
by causing his arrest, I disgrace my mother’s husband. 
I have seen my mother kiss him tenderly. She must 
really have loved him. Would my mother smile on me, 
do you think, if I should have him whom she loved 
publically accused of crime, and led to prison ? ” 

Hill answered, thoughtfully : 

“ It is a hard question. It is a conflict of duties. The 
duty to yourself and society against the duty to your 
mother’s memory. I cannot give my reason, but some- 
how I think that you will let the last conquer all the 
others.” 


232 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ Spoken like your noble self,” she responded, proudly. 

“ I have every reason to despise Mr. Cripps,” said Hill. 
Indeed I think that I hate him more than any other man, 
as I love you more than all mankind besides. But I 
would prefer that he be punished, and deprived of the 
power to cheat and corrupt society by anyone rather than 
by you. Your blameless life should not be clouded by a 
single regret. It is better that you suffer a wrong, which 
will do you so little injury as the loss of your property, 
rather than be ever grieved by the least pang of remorse.” 

“ Are you the sordid American who wished to marry 
me for my fortune ? ” she asked smiling through tears of 

joy- 

“ The very same,” he replied. 

After a short and blissful silence she said : 

“ I think I would like Mr. Hope to know that I have 
lost my fortune, if you do not object.” 

“And I,” said Hill, “would like my friend Ketchum 
to know what your solicitor has told you. He is discreet 
and will keep our secret. He knows much more of Mr. 
Cripps’ doings than either you or I. He may devise 
some way in which a part of your property can be re- 
covered without making the matter public, or arresting 
him who has defrauded you.” 

“ I agree,” she answered sweetly. 

By what process it was brought about that Mr. Hope 
invited Ketchum to dinner there is no need of inquiring. 
It may have been mere overflowing good nature and a 
desire to make amends for hasty words. Circumstances 
seemed to require that as the friend of Lawrence Hill, 


ICETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPE’S. 


233 


the typical American, should be made welcome, and Mr. 
Hope was not the man to be deliberately uncivil. So 
Reuben Ketchum dined with the Hopes on the day fol- 
lowing the important reading of the letters from America. 

Previous to the dinner Ellen had taken occasion to in- 
form Mr. Hope that she had lost her fortune through 
Mr. Cripps’ mismanagement. The conservative English- 
man was greatly astonished and highly indignant at this 
intelligence. He proposed at once to let all the terror of 
the law loose to pursue Ellen’s unfaithful guardian. But 
Ellen would not hear of it, and Mr. Hope was further 
immeasurably surprised to learn that Mr. Hill supported 
her in this course, and was fully intent upon marrying 
her without a fortune. 

Mr. Hope was obliged to content himself with blush- 
ing for his countryman, and confessing that he had 
wronged the Americans in calling them without excep- 
tion a scheming avaricious people. 

Ellen was present when Hill told the same story briefly 
to Ketchum. 

That able legal gentleman seemed to blame himself for 
this denouement. He said : 

“ I’m a perfect fool. I ought to have known this and 
secured this property before the villain escaped. I’ve 
been following him on other accounts. I discovered his 
game about that New York-letter. He sent to an agent 
of his in New York, to make such representations as 
would secure the report he desired. I found out that it 
was a put-up job, and had it rectified by telegraph. I 
was a stupid fool not to look after Miss Ravenhill’s 


234 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


property. I ought to have known that he would get 
away with that if it was in his control.” 

“ Ah ! Mr. Ketchum, you should not accuse yourself 
of negligence,” said Ellen. “ You have done me a 
much greater service in securing the retraction of that 
terrible letter.” 

“ Is it too late to do anything to regain this property 
now in a quiet way ? ” asked Hill. 

“Yes, my boy,” answered Ketchum, looking at his 
watch. “ The bird has flown. Cripps has boarded the 
outward-bound Brazilian steamer two hours ago at 
Queenstown. I was informed of his movements and 
could have arrested him at the last minute, if I had 
known that he had embezzled Miss Ravenhill’s fortune.” 

u I am glad that he has gone,” said Hill. 

“And I,” echoed Ellen. 

“ Everybody in this dominion ought to be glad,” said 
Ketchum. “ But we ought to have special prayers read 
in the churches for the Brazilians. They’ll catch it when 
Cripps gets after them. But I’ll engage to make it inter- 
esting for him, if ever I run across him in the United 
States.” 


Mrs. Hope was not greatly pleased with Ketchum. 
He walked into dinner without offering her his arm. He 
would have taken his chair without waiting for the grace- 
She was a little fearful that one unpracticed in these, her 
customary points of good breeding, would make some 
more embarassing blunder. Meditating on this she said 
to Mr. Hill : 


KETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPE’S. 235 

“ I wish that we could persuade you to remain with us 
here in England.” 

“ Thanks,” he replied, “ I could be well contented 
here.” 

“ Then why not remain ? Mr. Hope thinks you almost 
an Englishman. You have many friends here. Nellie 
should persuade you to make this your home.” 

“ Truly spoken,” said Mr. Hope. “You might find 
yourself a neat little villa, and you and Nellie might be 
as comfortable as, — as sparrows. If St. Helen’s does not 
please you, take some pretty place near London, say 
Sydenham or London. No doubt you would find it 
vastly more agreeable than in America.” 

“ Do you think I would be safe in leaving the question 
of domicile to Ellen ? ” he asked. 

“ Indeed, Nellie would decide wisely for her own 
country,” said Mr. Hope confidently. 

The young lady shook her head and said “ No,” quietly. 

“And why not, pray? You should prefer England 
to other countries, being an Englishwoman.” 

“ And so, mayhap, I do,” she answered. 

“ Then why would you choose to live elsewhere when 
there is no need ? ” 

“ Is it not the law,” she asked, “ that the wife becomes 
the citizen of her husband’s country ? ” 

“ Yes, that is the law I think.’ 

“ And is not the law right ? ” 

“ No doubt, no doubt,” said Mr. Hope : “ but, you 
know—” 

“ Is it anywhere the law that the husband becomes the 
citizen of his wife’s country ? ” she continued calmly. 


236 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


“ A Portia ! a Portia ! ” exclaimed Ketchum much 
pleased. He had been listening to the conversation in 
evident uneasiness. 

She continued undisturbed. “ Would you have a man 
live in a country of which he could not be a citizen ? 
In whose affairs he could take no part ? I become, a 
citizen of America when I become Mr. Hill’s wife, and 
if he gives me leave to choose, I shall say that America is 
best for both of us.” 

“ Admirably spoken,” said Ketchum, “ I assure you 
Miss Ravenhill that your reasoning is unanswerable.” 

“ I’m not so sure, I’m not so sure,” said Mr. Hope. 
“I’m not convinced. I think that Nellie should be more 
patriotic. She should prefer England.” 

Ketchum was irritated that Hill treated the subject 
with such happy unconcern, and therefore he said : 

“ It seems to me that the person most particularly in- 
terested should have something to say for himself. Every 
man is bound to his country by sacred ties which he can- 
not break, but by a species of treason.” 

Hill smiled and said in a pleasant tone which took all 
the seeming satire from his words : 

“ I must apologize for my countryman, Mrs. Hope. 
He is so unconventionally patriotic. I assure you that 
he is quite an unusual American in this respect.” 

“ More unusual, I am sorry to say,” said Ketchum 
quickly, “ than I would have been twenty years ago. 
The truth is, Mr. Hope, that we are now suffering from a 
peculiar form of national disease, which attacks certain 
nations at certain periods in their growth. England was 
brought by it nearly to its death in the reign of the 


KETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPE’S. 


237 

second Charles. It is the undue admiration of foreign 
modes of life. It is shown in contempt for the manners 
and institutions of home. It results in changing many 
men who should be our best citizens into useless, super- 
cilious snobs. It has been called by scientifically dis- 
posed persons drapsetomania. It makes Anglophides of 
our best read men, Gallophides of our men of selfish 
leisure. If its development were shown in actively urg- 
ing the adoption of foreign political ideas and social cus- 
toms by Americans, we would not have so much reason 
to complain. We are capable of being improved by good 
examples. But our lovers of foreign ways are too inso- 
lent for reformers. In their supercilious laziness they 
shirk the political duties of citizens. They do not vote. 
They take no part in the public discussion of important 
questions. They even boast of their neglect as if it were 
ennobling to despise the privilege of citizenship.” 

Hill nodded his head smilingly as if to say, “ You see 
my friend is not an untutored savage.” While Ketchum 
claimed the attention of the company : 

“ With us it is not more or less than snobbery — the de- 
sire to be thought above one’s birth or belongings. You 
despise a social snob in England, Mr. Hope. You fair- 
spoken, honest Englishmen justly despise a man who 
would pass himself as better born, or more worthy than 
his condition warrants.” 

Mr. Hope assented with proud satisfaction. 

“ If you were an American, you would despise our 
national snobs, the men who neglect the government 
their fathers planned and fought for, and the institutions 


238 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


their fathers founded, to ape foreign manners and praise 
foreign modes of thought. 

This snobbery has come upon us with sudden wealth. 
It is not less ridiculous than the attempt in this country 
of a vulgar man, who has become rich quickly, to assume 
the style of your old aristocracy. We have now a large 
number of men who have accumulated large properties 
within the last fifteen years. Many of these men and 
their families travel in Europe. They become acquainted 
with luxuries which have not become domesticated at 
home. They listen to the praises which every patriotic 
man here is ready to bestow upon the advantages of his 
own country, and like silly fools return to America only 
to preach the pleasures of an idle life in Paris or London. 
They overlook the deep-seated patriotism which char- 
acterizes every Englishman or Frenchman whom they 
have encountered, which is the foundation of all which 
makes social order possible or life enjoyable here. They 
selfishly forget the duty laid upon them as members of 
the human family of fitting their part of the world for 
those who shall come after them. They think only of an 
easy life for themselves, and take no care for their des- 
cendants. Their fathers would abhor them ; their sons 
will curse them. Such men are social lepers. They 
should be gathered into a community apart, and not 
permitted to carry their contagion among earnest men.” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” said Mr. Hope, quite in sympathy 
with the speaker. Hill wore an amused but approving 
expression, while Ellen looked her serene commendation. 
Ketchum continued : 

“ What would you say, Mr. Hope, of an English land- 


ICETCHUM DINES AT MR. HOPE’S. 


239 

holder who permanently resided in Paris because he fan- 
cied French service and French rookery, and who saw 
nothing worth admiring in England ? ” 

“ By George, sir, I would say that he was a puppy, sir ; 
a besotted, contemptible puppy.” 

“ So you ought to regard Americans who are willing 
to desert their country. Why, sir, America is the most 
promising country on earth. It has a future which can 
only be measured by the patriotism of its people. Mil- 
lions of acres of fertile fields yet untouched by the plow ; 
mountains of coal and iron. It can support as great a 
population as India, and every man, with his family 
round him, can be as comfortable, as free, as secure as 
you here to-day, Mr. Hope, in England, by your own 
fireside. What can you think of a man, who with such 
a country to live for, prefers to be the lackey of a foreign 
lord ? ” 

“ You are right, sir ; you are right. Give me your 
hand,” exclaimed Mr. Hope, reaching across the corner 
of the table. “ I wish to make my apologies to you, sir, 
for anything I may have said against your country. I 
admire you, sir, and, by George, sir, if I were not an 
Englishman, I would be an American. Let us drink to 
the future of America. Have your glass filled, sir.” 

Ketchum said, as he raised his glass, “ May all misun- 
derstandings be avoided by a better acquaintance. Non- 
intercourse is the mother and nurse of prejudice.” 

Hill began to speak. His eyes were cast down, but 
his voice was firm and deliberate : 

“ My friend,” he said, “ I more than suspect that all 
which you have said applies particularly to me. I prob- 


240 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


ably deserved to be called by all the pretty names which 
you have used. I have been perhaps a drapsetomaniac, 
a snob, a stupid fool, a puppy — ” 

“ No ; no,” said Ketchum. 

“ At all events I see the point of your remarks. I have 
been thinking of this subject for some time. I am con- 
vinced that you are right. A man is an idiot who does 
not love his country, and I wish to assure you, that by 
the help of this true English girl here, I will be a true 
American.” 

Ketchum raised his glass. Mr. Hope raised his glass. 
The ladies followed their example, and Hill joined them. 
They drank to the good resolution in silence, and then 
the party rose, and the ladies withdrew. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

A VICTIM OF NOSTALGIA. 

L AWRENCE HILL and Ellen Ravenhill were duly 
married in the parish church, in the church-yard 
in which were her mother’s grave and the monument 
commemorating her father’s bravery and untimely fate. 
Mr. Hope gave the bride away, and afterwards enter- 
tained the happy pair and their friends at a wedding 
breakfast. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hill spent a month on the continent, and 
then returned to London, intending speedily to sail for 
America. 

In London they found Ketchum. He wore a particu- 
larly solemn countenance, and Hill rallied him upon his 
melancholy looks. 

“ It is a peculiarity of unmarried men,” he said, “which 
I have remarked during the past few weeks. They do 
not seem cheerful. It is strange that I never noticed it 
before, but it seems to me that all unmarried men wear 
a wandering, unsatisfied expression. They seem to be 
looking for something. You must be married, old fellow. 
Then you’ll begin to be contented.” 

“ If I remember rightly,” answered Ketchum, without 
smiling, “ a certain friend of mine owes me a farm, or a 

house and lot, or something of that sort. I’m unhappy 

241 


242 ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 

because he does not seem to be mindful of his indebted- 
ness. It was a trifling forfeit promised me at starting on 
a certain voyage, to be paid in case said friend deviated 
from a certain preposterous line of conduct, at that time 
adopted by him.” 

“ This is not generous,” said Hill. “ I admit the in- 
debtedness, to see you smile again.” 

“ I have no use for any real estate at present,” replied 
Ketchum, without changing his sober manner, “ and there- 
fore I wish to propose a compromise. If you and Mrs. 
Hill will do me a particular favor, we will consider the 
said indebtedness cancelled.” 

“ Name it,” said Hill. “ It must be something more 
than impossible if we both will not be delighted to serve 
you in it.” 

“ I would like to place a lady under your protection, 
to go with you to America, and to be taken care of by 
you until she is otherwise provided for.” 

“ Oh, ho ! a lady in the case, eh ? What say you, 
Ellen?” 

“ I shall be much pleased to be in any way of service 
to Mr. Ketchum,” answered Mrs. Hill, serenely. 

“ It is your old friend, Mrs. Ogle,” said Ketchum. 
“ Her husband is dying here in London, and she will 
shortly be left alone in a foreign land, without friends or 
money. If you will take her with you, and give her a 
home for a short time, you will do a good deed, and I 
for one will be under deep obligations to you.” 

“ Mrs. Ogle ! ” exclaimed Ellen. “ Poor woman ! She 
was very kind to me. And is poor Mr. Ogle dying? 
How negligent in me to forget them ! Where are they ?” 


A VICTIM OF NOSTALGIA. 


243 


“ This is only common humanity, my dear fellow. 
Ellen and I would have insisted on doing as you ask, 
if we had known the circumstances.” 

“ But are they here in London ? ” asked Ellen. 

“ Yes,” answered Ketchum, mournfully. 

“ You must take us to them at once. I can do much 
to comfort her.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Hill guided by Mr. Ketchum, went to the 
Ogles’ lodgings. Mrs. Ogle received them. She wore a 
tearful expression and wept when she greeted Ellen, and 
talked low, alrfiost in a whisper ; but she was not by any 
means the broken, nerveless woman, which she became 
immediately after the discovery of Mr. Ogle’s transgres- 
sion. Shall we say that there was strength given her to 
bear her burden ? Doubtless this is a pious and common 
saying which will commend itself to many worthy peo- 
ple as especially applicable to this case. Therefore we 
will say so. 

Hill was invited to see Mr. Ogle. There was a phy- 
sician with him, one of those busy practitioners, whose 
sign hangs in a much frequented street, who have many 
strange patients, and expect only moderate fees. 

The wasted form of the American banker was sup- 
ported by pillows in a great chair. His gray hair was 
back from his dark forehead ; his black lips were parted ; 
there were drops which might have been tears on his 
sunken cheeks ; his eyes stared upward, they were glassy 
and expressionless ; his thin hands plucked nervously 
the bed clothes on which they rested. 

It was a sight no Sybarite would willingly encounter. 
Hill on the threshold was affected with horror. He 


244 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


would have retired, but Ketchum behind him urged him 
on. 

“He cannot last long,” he said. “Go to him. He 
will know you. The voice of a countryman may cheer 
his dying sense. He thinks of nothing but his home.” 

Hill approached reluctantly and stood by the dying 
man’s side. Ketchum said : 

“ Here is Mr. Hill. He has come to see you.” 

“ Can I do anything for you, Mr. Ogle, ? ” said Hill, 
feeling that his words were mockingly inhuman, and hating 
himself for his inability to render any aid or consolation. 

The nervous hands seemed to express recognition and 
the lips moved, but no articulate sound came forth. 

Ketchum, who had day and night of late, faithfully 
watched at Mr. Ogle’s side, seemed to understand his 
thoughts and he said : 

“Mr. Hill is going to America. Is there any favor 
you wish to ask of him ? ” 

There was a solemn pause, then there was a frightful, 
horrible heaving of the dying man’s chest, and as the re- 
sult of this effort there came forth these words : 

“ My wife.” 

This ghastly mechanical utterance made Hill’s blood 
run cold ; but Ketchum said : 

“ He wishes to place his wife in your care.” 

Hill answered, “I solemnly promise that Mrs. Ogle 
shall be cared for. Mrs. Hill and myself will provide 
her a home.” 

Again there was the unnatural rising of the chest, and 
through the set lips came like an unhuman sigh, a ghostly 
echo, the word. 


A VICTIM OF NOSTALGIA. 


245 


“ Home.” 

He never spoke again 

Hill turned away unable to endure longer the painful 
sight. He said to the physician : 

“ This is*most pitiful. What is his disease ? M 

“ Nostalgia, well-defined nostalgia,” replied this matter- 
of-fact professional man. “ All specifics totally ineffec- 
tual. The patient under the control of protracted mel- 
ancholia, sinking gradually with low fevef. Remarkable 
case, but not unknown in the hospital,” 

“But is there no remedy?” asked Hill. 

“ No remedy for home-sickness but a return home. 
The patient in this case has refused to be moved.” 

Hill went softly out of the room. 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 


HOMEWARD BOUND. 



HERE was no light chaffing indulged in by the 


1 four persons who followed the remains of Hannibal 
Ogle, as they were borne on to the ocean steamer, outward 
bound for New York, which swung at anchor in the Mer- 
sey, one day late in September. It was less than four 
months since those four persons, with hearts full of 
pleasant anticipations, stood on a deck in that stream, 
and looked upon that land, in which the courses of their 
lives were to be so suddenly and so greatly changed, 
Mrs. Ogle, closely veiled, leaned upon Ketchum’s arm, 
and the sympathetic spectators stood aside to make way 
for them. Ellen and Hill followed with saddened faces. 

Later, Ellen was left to console the weeping widow, 
while Hill and Ketchum stood by the vessel’s rail, watch- 
ing the circling gulls and the busy shipping, and engaged 
*n a solemn retrospect. 

“I suppose that you are thinking as I am,”. said Hill 
at length to his companion, “of the unforseen events 
which have happened to us since we landed here from 
the Arcadia, early in the summer.” 

“Yes,” replied Ketchum slowly. “I am thinking of 
them, and with what you might call mingled emotions. 
I am not in the habit of troubling myself with useless 
questions as to what would have happened if something 
else had not happened. But somehow, you see, I cannot 


246 


HOMEWARD BOUND. 


247 


quite get over the feeling that I am responsible for Ogle’s 
death. If I had not come to Europe on the steamer 
with them he might be living now, enjoying, after a 
fashion the money he stole from the Chicago Bank.” 

“Tut, tut, my dear fellow. You are growing morbid. 
You did your duty like a man, with discretion and right 
feeling. If you had not been there, someone else would 
have been engaged to proceed against him, someone who 
would not have shown your delicate consideration. Ogle 
would have been arrested and his guilt publicly an- 
nounced, and that, why, my dear fellow, that would have 
killed his wife also.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” asked Ketchum thoughtfully. 

“ Certainly,” responded Hill, “ and Cripps too, would 
have been arrested, and Ellen would have suffered un- 
namable shame, and I — why Ketchum, think of it, if we 
had not sailed as we did in the Arcadia, I would have 
remained an unmarried man for life, a narrow-minded, 
conceited snob.” 

“ If Mrs. Ogle would cease blaming me for her hus- 
band’s death,” said Ketchm meditatively. 

“ Does she lay blame for her husband’s day on you ? ” 

“ I think she does.” 

“ How do you know ? Has she ever said so ? ” 

“No-o,” responded Ketchum in a drawling tone, “not 
exactly. But she cries and looks at me reproachfully.” 

“Then why do you stay with her? You know that 
Ellen and I will care for her and make her comfortable.” 

* “ Oh, she does not wish me to leave her. She says 
that she wishes me to see her husband buried in the 
cemetery at Chicago. She says that it will break her 


24S 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


heart if I leave her. By George, I believe that she makes 
a woman of me. But what am I to do ? ” 

Hill looked at Ketchum who was gazing into the water 
with that peculiar look of compassion, with which a man 
in his right mind sometimes regards a friend entangled 
in the meshes of a sentimental woman. 

“ I am sure,” he said, “ that Mrs. Ogle has fully ac- 
quitted you of all blame for the death of her husband. 
She would wish you to get yourself out of her sight as 
speedily as possible, if it were otherwise.” 

That night while Hill and Ellen were sitting close 
together on deck in comfortable contentment watching 
the stars, while the fresh sea-breeze blew over them and 
the vessel rolled along over the Irish Sea, they also in- 
dulged in a retrospect. They said a few sad words of 
pity for the misguided man, whose mortal remains they 
were bearing to their last resting-place, a few regrets for 
Thomas Cripps’ folly and lonesome wanderings, and 
many tender mutual congratulations over the fortunate 
accidents which brought them together and developed 
their unclouded happiness. 

“ Poor Mrs. Ogle,” said Ellen at length. “ This is a 
mournful journey for her. We must be very kind to her.” 

“Yes,” said Hill, and then he asked deliberately ; 

“Would she accept, do you think, an invitation to live 
in Cayuga, from ” 

“ Hush, hush,” interrupted Ellen quickly, “ It is shame- 
ful even to think of such things.” 

“But how long must” Hill began and was again 

cut short by his wife : 

“ I will not hear a word on the subject,” she said. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 


CONCLUSION. 

H ANNIBAL OGLE was buried quietly in the ceme- 
tery at Chicago, by the side of a monument 
which in former days he had erected, and on which he 
had fondly imagined his eminent virtues would be com-* 
memorated. At last he was at rest among those who had 
once been called his friends, near the busy familiar life 
of the city which had been so essential to his existence. 
Lawrence Hill caused to be carved on his monument the 
significant word “ Home,” with his name and the date of 
his death, and then his widow and her friends left him. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hill are living pleasantly in the little 
city of New England, where his name and family have 
been long known and respected. Mrs. Ogle lives with 
them, and strange as it may seem, Mr. Ketchum’s pro- 
fessional business frequently requires him to pay them a 
visit. 

Lawrence Hill’s friends have noted a great change in 
him since his marriage, which they universally ascribe to 
the influence of his charming wife. He is actively inter- 
ested in all public affairs. He originates measures for 
the public good, and works to make them effective. He 
takes an energetic part in politics, writing and speaking 
249 


250 


ALMOST AN ENGLISHMAN. 


on questions of the day with force and patnotic spirit. 
Strangest of all, he visits with unsparing ridicule and de- 
nunciation the arrogant opinions of his former compan- 
ions, with whom he once joined in boasting that he would 
not demean himself by mixing with a rabble at the polls, 
where his vote would be equalled and balanced by the 
vote of the meanest and most ignorant citizen. He has 
now no patience with such sentiment, and in enthusiastic 
attention to all the privileges of an American freeman, 
he is surpassed by none. His influence is already im- 
portant, and in due time his name will be known and his 
words will have weight in the councils of his state, and 
perhaps in those of the nation. 

The reader will be pleased to .learn that Mr. Byrch- 
field Hope is seriously thinking of breaking his often-re- 
peated resolution, never to set foot outside of England, 
and yielding to the solicitations of his son is contemplat- 
ing visiting, with his family, their friends in America. 
The possibility of any one of his three dutiful daughters 
falling in love with rascally American adventurers on the 
steamship, does not now fill the minds of Mr. and Mrs. 
Hope with serious alarm. 


THE END. 






. 













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